The waltz of the wolf - It once started with blackmail
by PlumdePhoenix
Summary: English/French - Niamh O'Connor (OC) is the bastard daughter of a werewolf and a Berserker. When G. Alves blackmails her to join the team, she realizes that the animal side she inherited from her parents will be useful. As the animal kingdom rebels, she is the only one able to save both humanity and her kind from destruction. (From chapter 9, is only in English)
1. Chapter 1 : The Secret is out

**Disclaimer : I do not own the Zoo series, and neither am paid for my work, it's just for the fun of writing ;)**

 **This fanfiction consists in a rewriting of the Zoo series, with an OC. Imagine that pitch : I like this series, and I love fantastic creatures, including werewolves. So the question is : how would the Zoo team be doing with a werewolf by their side ?**

 **From this point, I took one of my characters, Niamh O'Connor, to embody the wolf.**

 **Small precision about the pronounciation = Niamh is pronounced Niév, like in the beginning of "nieve", which means snow, in spanish. Aoife is pronounced Iffa. Jorgen is pronouced Yorgen, with a G sound, like in "guilty".**

 **And finally, to imagine what Niamh looks like when she transforms, go check Fenrirsha on DeviantArt ;)**

 **PS : English is not my first language, so please, be comprehensive ^^'**

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 **CHAPTER 1**

Niamh and her friend Richard were walking in a dark alley, which happened to be a shortcut to their favourite pub, where they liked to drink a soda before going back home. The night was fresh, though summer was far advanced, and both of them were happily joking together, uncharitablily making fun of their principal teacher, always mad at everything and everyone for no reason. Both of them were caricaturing him with quite talent before bursting in laugh. Niamh really appreciated Richard, with whom she could almost be herself, fully. She still had some hidden secrets, just like everone, and she prefered to remain them this way, at least for now.

They turned round the corner, sinking deeper in the maze of the gloomy back streets of London. In a parallel path, Niamh noticed a pack of stray dogs ransacking a dump, looking for food. _Stray dogs, really ?_ she wondered when her sharp look caught the brief glint of a metal dog tag on one dog's collar. What seemed to be the leader of the animals screwed his gaze into hers, it was a wicked look, hostile, which bristled her neck in anxiety. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable here, she forced the pace, pushing Richard to accelerate if he didn't want to be left behind.

"Hey, Niamh, slow down a little, we're not in a rush !" he pointed out with a small laugh.

The girl clutched her fingers around his arm and hastened even more, upseting her friend who broke from the grasp and brutally stopped.

"What's up with you ? You afraid of dogs ?" he asked as he noticed too the three mutts approaching, head lowered and their ears stretched straight to them.

He didn't understand their corporal language as well as she did. She grew up with canids, she knew them more than anybody. They gazed right in front of them, right to their preys, erected ears in attention, their pace slow and studied, their head slightly cocked, their tail straight and stiff… These were all signs she identified as an imminent threat. With her keen eyes, she saw the muscles of the dogs whirl under their skin and fur, she decomposed every movement, visualizing their trajectory before they took it. Their claws were regularly clicking on the tar, while an aggressive growl was swelling more and more in their throats as they were implementing their basic encircling tactics.

Instinctively, Niamh stiffened and prepared for battle, mobile on her legs, her back rounded to seem bigger to her ennemies. Richard didn't know her greatest secret, and she didn't intented to reveal it, but she still had to be ready for that eventuality. She began to growl too, the adrealine rushing through her veins like a galloping thoroughbred hors, as she was doing all she could to not be overwhelmed by the powerful hormone. Her whole body tingled in unpleasant shudders, eager for battle. However, she couldn't unleash her power, not with Richard around her.

"Go, run away, but _slowly_. Don't run. Walk to the end of the street, I'll take care of them."

"What do you mean, taking care of them ? What the hell you are talking about, Niamh ?!" Richard protested, raising his voice and crossing his arms.

"They are already surrounding us, Rich, go away before it's too late !" scolded Niamh gazing an unbending blue look to her friend.

Except it was already too late. The leader of the dogs finished closing the triangle around them, closing their last exit. Niamh cursed through her clentched teeth, enraged, and was on the verge to let her anger speak, which would have been the worst choice ever. The leader, an overexcited golden retriever, leaped to Richard, bare fangs, and snapped his jaws and barking near to his calves. The boy startled of surprise and fear, with a ridiculous yelp. He then pulled himself together and tried to soothe the dog, speaking to him with a soft voice. It was useless, Niamh knew it, even if she had no idea how she did. She knew it, that's all. For her part, she grunted at the dogs, loosening control over a small part of her deep nature.

When they encountered her eye, the two other dogs seemed to hesitate for a second, their grunts lowering for a moment. They then regained their intensity, and became even more aggressive. They showed themselves even more hostile, as they snapped their jaws next to her calves too. She scolded louder, her voice swelling with strength to scare away the mutts.

Suddenly, behind her, she heard Richard cry in pain. The golden retriever just had bit his hand and was pulling with a deadly determination in his eye. The rage overran Niamh and she released all control over herself. Like a raging wave, an overwhelming wave of power crossed her from one side to another, very likely to an electric shock by its nature. A tickling sensation mixed with itching filled the girl, and a second later, it wasn't her anymore in that back street. Not quite anymore. Niamh was a tall girl, athletic and slender, with light skin, and a face with Nordic features and beauty, framed by an opulent golden-brown hair with red highlights, while her ice blue eyes completed the picture she was contemplating every morning in the mirror. Before the baffled eyes of the two last dogs, the human silhouette suddenly grew in an explosion of fur, claws and fangs.

A huge roaring hybrid creature was now standing where used to be standing Niamh. An animal, about one meter forty high to its shoulder, and close to two meters long without the tail, with an impressive musculature rolling and stretching under its skin as ultra resistant metal cables. A short tail was batting the air with animosity while large clawed paws were scratching the ground agressively, worrying the dogs, which began to paw at the ground, whining in distress. The creature had a big head, full of fangs and crowned with round ears. It had golden eyes glaring with rage and shining in its tricolor fur, dark brown, red and beige. The back, the paws and the tail of the animal were black, its flanks were dark red and its belly was beige. Its face wore those three colors, the red adjoining its moving ears, the black covering its forehead, eyes and muzzle, while the beige was eating its cheeks.

Furious, the creature uttered a resounding roar and then rushed at the leader of the dogs. It had a both fluid and clumsy gait, the big fur collar on its shoulders moving at the same pace as its run, until it get its paw to the dog, literally. The violence of the blow caused the mutt to let go off his prey, and snatched him from the ground, throwing him to a dump, three meters away. Without even slowing, the huge animal rushed to the golden and closed its jaws of titan on the spine of the dog. A disgusting crunch resounded in the street, followed by a painly yelp, quickly interrupted with the death of the mad domestic animal. The two last dogs, terrified, retreated immediately.

Now the hybrid was alone in the path with the injured boy, who was holding his wounded hand against his abdomen, wincing in pain and tears in the eyes. The creature turned its gaze to him, its pupils dilated by some strange death impulse, whipping its veins. It was loudly breathing, smelling the fragrance of blood that emanated from the wound of the human, and approached until it could put its nose on the trembling with fear boy's arm, who was looking for his absent friend. Restraining its thirst for blood, the hybrid animal delicately licked the wound to stem the bleeding, its raspy tongue lapping the least drop with tenderness. In the young man's eyes, the creature read no gratitude, only terror. Terror that the Beast would devour him, that it would not be satisfied of only licking the wound. Terror that someone would come in the street and scare or anger the creature. Terror that the dogs would come back, more numerous. Terror that Niamh would have been killed by the Beast or the dogs while he was attacked himself.

The eye of the creature suddenly became more human as it blinked and its irises came back to their normal color, ice blue. The big creature stood up on its hind legs, now no more measuring one meter forty but two meters eighty of muscles and fur. The boy dropped, his legs failing him beacause of the terror. He was looking at the animal facing him with fear, scared that it could have decided to finish him by stomping on him, thus he was extremely surprised when he saw the creature lower and shrink, to leave no room for anything but a human silhouette, a lot more fragile in comparison, although the person in question was far from being thin as a twig.

"Ni… Niamh ? What the… What happened ?" Richard stammered in disbelief.

Niamh remained silent, looking deep in thought, with a dark look on her face. Richard laboriously managed to get back up on his feet and took his friend's hand in his still uninjured. She disengaged herself immediately, to her regret, and gazed at the young man. Her eyes were cold and determined.

"The secret is revealed" she said laconically. "What are you going to do with it ?"

"The secret ? What secret ? That you can transform into that big hairy thing ? What the hell are you ? Some sort of… hypertrophied werewolf ?" the poor boy squeaked in shock.

"Some sort, yeah…" said Niamh sarcastically, staying at a safe distance from her friend, after making him let go her hand.

Richard all of a sudden became really pale, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed like a mass. _Passed out_ , Niamh established, leaning over him. The shock, the pain and the blood loss defeated him. She was worried for her friend, thus she took her friend's phone and dialed the emergency number while resigning herself to leave the city and the life she had built here. Noone must know her secret, but she couldn't resolve to kill her best friend. If he told what he saw to the NHS paramedics (National Health Service), noone would believe him, and as she would have disappeared, noone could analyze her blood or her DNA. Waiting for the NHS to come, Niamh began to cover up the corpse of the golden retriever, so noone would think of studying the deadly wounds on the dog, which could have allowed to identify her. Her, and therefore the species which she belonged to. Or, technically, the _two_ species, according to her strange bastardy.

She hid the dead dog in a dump, two streets further, praying for the dustmen not to look in it before emptying the trash in their truck, and that the corpse would be crushed in the truck dump before anyone sees it. When she returned in the street, Richard was still unconscious, but a man was leaning over him. Niamh couldn't help herself, an aggressive growl filtered between her lips. The man glared at her and crossed her gaze. He stood up, smoothed his grey suit and tie with one hand, while he extended his other hand towards Niamh.

"Gaspard Alves, nice to meet you", he introduced himself with a strong french accent.

Of a suspicious nature, Niamh stayed at a safe distance from the man, refusing to shake his hand as long as she didn't trust him.

"Who are you, what were you doing with my friend ?" she scolded with animosity.

Not taking the offense, the tall brown haired man smiled frankly, trustfully.

"I'm recruiting a team of very special persons to solve a world crisis. You meet the criteria."

"What criteria ? And first, what crisis ?"

"All around the globe, animal attacks were recorded, from the dog bite to the massacre of entire groups of tourists by lions in Africa. Your friend was victim of this phenomenon, and you rescued him, using your special talent", replied the mysterious man without losing his smile.

"We were attacked by mad dogs, that's all. Despite the fact that it is regrettable, it has nothing to do with a world phenomenon, so you can keep your conspiracy theory for you and your team of crazies", Niamh retorted grumpily, as she walked towards her friend and took his temperature, a hand on his forefead.

He was a little hot, but it could be linked to the attack and an adrenaline rush.

"All the members of my team discovered elements sustaining that theory, miss O'Connor. All that we need, now, is a person who understands the behavior of the animals as well as you do. A person who could also decrypt the signs of an imminent attack in the smell of the wind or the silence of the woods…"

Niamh tightened her jaws, suddenly stretched like a bow, ready to jump on Alves to silence him for ever. Unfortunately, the siren of the ambulance sounded at the edge of her hearing, clearly implying that she would not have the time to silence the man, cover up his body and blood, and pretend that nothing happened before the NHS arrives on the spot. She needed to play for time, get in the ambulance with her friend and then escape as soon as they arrive to the hospital. She would then go back home, pack her things up and move to another city, if not another country.

"I've never lived in the countryside, not even went camping in my whole life", she lied. "You are mistaken", she taunted with conviction.

"I know who you are, miss O'Connor, I know who your parents are. What were their names…" he faked not to remember. "Ah yes, I remember ! Aoife and Jorgen."

Niamh freezed, anger roaring in her heart, threatening to burst. First, she had to restrain the growl inflating in her throat, and her fangs, about to spurt out without permission. Likewise, she guessed that her irises had already turned to gold, under the influence of adrenaline.

"You are definitely badly informed. My father's name is Nathanaël", she replied, trying to hide her agitation.

"Come on, let's put an end to this masquerade. I see clearly in your game. You're trying to save time to escape with your friend with the NHS paramedics."

Although she was upset to be so easy to read, Niamh refrained herself from jumping to Alves' throat.

"You're wrong", she persisted with unyielding aplomb to hide her anxiety, rising inside her.

"I wanted to persuade you to come with me on this assignment, but I see that your anonymity matters more to you than the world's fate. After all, you have nothing to fear from these aggressive animals, don't you ? None of them would dare to attack the daughter of a wolf and a Berseker."

This time, Niamh had to mobilize all her will to not let out her animal side. She suddenly grew up twenty centimeters, her claws dented the palms of her clentched fists, her fangs pierced her gums and a sparse fur began to cover her skin. Breathing loudly, she focused her will on the regression of the transformation and managed to recover a stricly human form. A cold, unfriendly glint in her gaze, she turned to the mysterious man.

"What do you want, exactly ? Where are you going with your fucking innuendos ?"

Showing an obnoxious smirk, Alves smoothed his tie again and glared at the girl as the siren of the ambulance was closing to them.

"I want to come to the point that I have irrefutable evidence concerning your secret nature, as well as I have some videos of your transfomations, including this one, that allowed you to save your friend. Off course, I don't have them here, but if you decide to kill me to keep your secret safe, know that I have a few friends whose mission is to flow social networks with this evidence, in case I don't make them regular reports."

With a disgusted look on her face, Niamh observed the tall brown haired man from top to bottom, wondering how such a despicable being could be so attractive and elegant.

"Obviously, if you come with me and meet the other members of the team, I will delete all the elements I gathered against you. I have no doubt that the other members of your species wouldn't be thrilled that their secret is revealed, then I hope that you will happily accept my offer.

"Bastard", Niamh mumbled in a low voice, bared teeth as if to growl.

Although she had a human appearance most of the time, she sill had a certain number of animal behaviors quite embarrassing in public. She was quick to growl when she was in a bad mood, she snapped her jaws as if to bite annoying people, she sometimes sniffed the air in quite an insistent way, and it was just the tip of the iceberg…

She would have loved to take some time to think about it, but Alves was tapping his watch, clearly meaning that she had very little time to decide.

"Fine. I accept", she finally said when the NHS paramedics carfully engaged the narrow back street.

She quickly explained the situation to the stretcher bearers, who put Richard in their vehicle, and left him a short message declaring her precipitate departure for personal reasons, and wishing him a quick recovery, and then stood in front of Alves.

"So, where are we going ?" she asked in a bad mood.

Alves smiled, or rather, showed a winning grin that bristled her neck of displeasure.

"First, to the airport. We go to Japan, miss O'Connor, to meet the rest of the team".

 **Thanks for reading, please let me know if my english is so bad you couldn't even make it to the end x)**

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Disclaimer : je ne possède pas les droits de la série Zoo, et ne touche aucune rémunération, c'est juste pour le fun de l'écriture :)

Cette histoire consiste en une réécriture de la série Zoo avec un OC. Pour l'idée de base : j'aime cette série, et j'aime les créatures fantastiques, dont les loups-garous. Question subséquente : comment se débrouillerait l'équipe de Zoo s'ils avaient un loup dans leur groupe ?

A partir de là, j'ai récupéré un de mes personnages, Niamh O'Connor, pour camper le rôle du loup.

Petite précision pour la prononciation = Niamh se prononce Niév (grossièrement), Aoife se prononce Iffa, et Jorgen se prononce Yorguen.

Pour la base image de la forme animale, checker Fenrirsha sur DeviantArt

 **CHAPITRE 1**

Niamh et son ami Richard s'engagèrent dans une ruelle sombre, qu'ils savaient être un raccourci pour le bar où ils aimaient boire un soda avant de rentrer chez eux. La soirée était fraîche, bien que l'été ait bien commencé, et les deux compères plaisantaient gaiement, se moquant de façon peu charitable de leur professeur référent toujours énervé contre tout et n'importe quoi pour aucune raison. Chacun leur tour, ils le caricaturaient en le mimant avec un certain talent avant de partir de grands éclats de rire. Niamh appréciait beaucoup Richard, avec qui elle pouvait presque se laisser aller à être elle-même. Il lui restait encore quelques secrets, comme tout le monde, et elle préférait encore les garder pour elle, pour le moment.

Ils tournèrent à droite au prochain croisement, s'enfonçant encore plus profondément dans le dédale de rues obscures de Londres. Dans une ruelle parallèle, Niamh remarqua un petit groupe de chiens errants qui fouillaient une poubelle à la recherche de restes de nourriture. Des chiens errants, vraiment ? s'interrogea-t-elle quand son regard acéré intercepta le bref éclat d'une plaque métallique sur le collier d'un des chiens. Celui qui semblait être le meneur des animaux vissa son regard dans le sien, un regard mauvais, hostile, qui hérissa la nuque de Niamh. Mal à l'aise, elle força l'allure, obligeant Richard à accélérer s'il ne voulait pas se laisser distancer.

-Hé, Niamh, doucement, on n'est pas pressé ! fit-il remarquer avec un petit rire.

La jeune fille l'attrapa fermement par le bras et pressa encore le pas, agaçant cette fois son ami, qui se dégagea et pila.

-Mais qu'est-ce qui t'arrive, d'un coup ? T'as peur des chiens ? demanda-t-il en remarquant à son tour les trois cabots qui s'approchaient d'eux tête baissée et oreilles dressées.

Il ne comprenait pas leur langage corporel aussi bien qu'elle. Elle avait grandi entourée de canidés, elle les connaissait mieux que personne. Leur regard fixé droit devant eux sur leurs proies, leurs oreilles dressées, leur pas lent et calculé, leur tête légèrement inclinée, leur queue droite et raidie étaient tout autant d'éléments qu'elle identifia immédiatement comme une menace. De ses yeux vifs, elle voyait les muscles des chiens rouler sous leur fourrure, elle décomposait mentalement chaque mouvement, visualisait leur trajectoire avant même qu'ils l'empruntent. Leurs griffes cliquetaient sur le bitume régulièrement, tandis qu'un grognement agressif enflait petit à petit dans leurs gorges et qu'ils mettaient en œuvre une tactique basique d'encerclement.

Instinctivement, Niamh se raidit et se mit en position de combat, mobile sur les jambes et le dos gonflé pour paraître plus imposante. Richard ne connaissait pas son plus grand secret, et elle n'avait pas l'intention de le révéler, mais elle devait tout de même se préparer à cette éventualité. Elle se mit à gronder, elle aussi, l'adrénaline parcourant ses veines comme un pur-sang lancé au galop, alors qu'elle faisait tout son possible en parallèle pour ne pas se laisser submerger par la puissante hormone. Tout son corps fourmillait de tressaillements désagréables, avide de combattre. Néanmoins, elle ne pouvait pas le laisser se déchaîner, pas avec Richard dans les parages.

-Va-t-en, enfuis-toi, mais _lentement_. Ne cours pas. Marche jusqu'au bout de la rue, je m'occupe d'eux.

-Comment ça t'occuper d'eux ? De quoi tu parles, enfin, Niamh ?! protesta Richard en haussant le ton et en croisant les bras.

-Ils sont en train de nous encercler, Rich, va-t-en avant qu'il soit trop tard ! gronda Niamh en plantant un regard bleu inflexible dans celui de son ami.

Sauf qu'il était déjà trop tard. Le meneur des chiens finit de clore le triangle qui les entourait, fermant la dernière porte de sortie. Niamh jura entre ses dents, furieuse et à deux doigts de laisser parler sa colère, ce qui aurait été le pire des choix possibles. Le meneur, un golden retriever survolté, bondit en direction de Richard, tous crocs dehors, pour venir claquer des mâchoires et aboyer tout près de ses mollets. Le jeune homme sursauta de surprise et de peur en poussant un petit cri ridicule, avant de se ressaisir et d'essayer d'apaiser le chien en lui parlant d'une voix douce. C'était inutile, Niamh en était convaincue, bien qu'elle n'ait aucune idée de comment elle savait ça. Elle le savait, c'est tout. De son côté, elle grogna sur les chiens à son tour, relâchant le contrôle sur une petite partie de sa nature profonde.

Quand ils croisèrent son regard, les deux autres chiens parurent hésiter un instant, leurs grognements perdant en intensité momentanément, avant de reprendre d'autant plus insistants et agressifs. Ils se montrèrent même plus hostiles que ça, puisqu'ils en vinrent à claquer des mâchoires tout près de ses mollets à elle. Elle gronda plus fort, sa voix gonflant avec force pour faire fuir les deux cabots.

Et soudain, derrière elle, elle entendit Richard crier de douleur. Le golden venait de refermer ses crocs sur la main du jeune homme, et tirait avec une détermination meurtrière dans le regard. Niamh vit rouge et relâcha tout contrôle sur elle-même. Comme une onde furieuse, une vague de pouvoir la traversa de part en part, très semblable à un choc électrique par sa nature. Une sensation de chatouillis mêlée à des démangeai-sons envahit la jeune fille, et un instant après, ce n'était plus elle dans la ruelle. Plus tout à fait. Niamh était une jeune fille de grande taille, à la silhouette athlétique et élancée, à la peau claire, dotée d'un visage aux traits et à la beauté nordique encadré par une crinière châtain-doré aux reflets roux flamboyants, tandis que des yeux bleu glacier complétaient le tableau qu'elle contemplait chaque matin devant son miroir. Et sous les yeux stupéfaits des deux derniers chiens, la silhouette humaine grandit subitement dans une explosion de fourrure, de griffes et de crocs.

Une énorme créature hybride rugissante se dressait maintenant là où se tenait anciennement Niamh. Un animal d'environ un mètre quarante au garrot, long de près de deux sans la queue et à la musculature impressionnante, roulant et se tendant sous sa fourrure comme autant de câbles métalliques ultra-résistants. Une courte queue battait l'air avec animosité tandis que de larges pattes griffues grattaient le sol agressivement, inquiétant les chiens, qui commencèrent à trépigner en geignant. La créature avait une tête énorme, pleine de crocs et couronnée d'une paire d'oreilles arrondies, des yeux dorés brûlant de rage et brillant au milieu de sa fourrure tricolore, brun sombre, rousse et beige. L'animal avait le dos, les pattes et la queue noirs, les flancs roux sombre et le ventre beige, et sa face arborait ces trois couleurs, le roux jouxtant ses oreilles agitées, le noir lui couvrant le front, les yeux et le museau, tandis que le beige lui mangeait les joues.

Furieuse, la créature poussa un rugissement retentissant et se rua sur le meneur des chiens. Elle avait une démarche à la fois fluide et pataude, l'énorme collier de fourrure sur ses épaules bougeant au rythme de sa course, jusqu'à ce qu'elle mette la patte sur le chien, littéralement. La violence de ce coup de patte fit lâcher prise au cabot et l'arracha du sol, le projetant contre une benne à ordure trois mètres plus loin. Sans ralentir, l'immense animal se précipita à nouveau sur le golden et referma ses mâchoires de titan sur l'échine du chien. Un craquement écœurant résonna dans la ruelle, suivi d'un jappement de douleur qui s'interrompit rapidement avec la mort de l'animal domestique. Les deux autres chiens, terrifiés, battirent en retraite immédiatement.

Maintenant seule dans la ruelle avec le jeune homme blessé qui tenait sa main meurtrie contre son ventre avec une grimace de douleur, les larmes aux yeux. La créature tourna son regard jaune vers lui, les pupilles dilatées par une étrange pulsion de mort qui cinglait ses veines. Elle soufflait bruyamment, humant le parfum du sang qui se dégageait de la plaie de l'humain, se rapprocha jusqu'à poser sa truffe sur le bras du jeune homme tremblant de terreur qui cherchait du regard son amie disparue. Contenant sa soif de sang, l'animal hybride lécha délicatement la blessure pour endiguer l'hémorragie, sa langue râpeuse lapant la moindre goutte avec tendresse. Dans les yeux du jeune homme, elle ne lut aucune reconnaissance, simplement de la terreur. La terreur à l'idée que la Bête décide de le dévorer, de ne pas s'en tenir qu'à lécher sa plaie, la terreur à l'idée que quelqu'un arrive dans la ruelle et effraie la créature ou la mette en colère, la terreur à l'idée que les chiens reviennent, plus nombreux, la terreur à l'idée que Niamh ait été tuée par la Bête ou les chiens pendant qu'il se faisait lui-même attaquer.

Le regard de la créature s'humanisa brusquement alors qu'elle clignait des paupières et que ses iris reprenaient leur couleur normale, bleu glace. L'immense créature se dressa sur ses pattes arrières, mesurant soudain non plus un mètre quarante mais bien deux mètres quatre-vingts de muscles et de fourrure. Le jeune homme se laissa tomber, ses jambes ne le portant plus sous le coup de la terreur. Il regardait l'animal qui lui faisait face avec terreur, craignant qu'il ait décidé de l'achever en l'écrasant sous son poids, et fut donc extrêmement surpris lorsque il vit la créature diminuer, comme rapetisser, jusqu'à ne plus laisser place qu'à une silhouette humaine, beaucoup plus frêle en comparaison, bien que la personne en question soit loin d'être une brindille.

-Ni… Niamh ? Qu'est-ce que… Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé ? bredouilla Richard, incrédule.

Niamh garda le silence, l'air plongée dans une profonde réflexion, le regard sombre. Richard parvint péniblement à se relever et prit doucement la main de son amie dans la sienne encore intacte. Elle se dégagea immédiatement, à son grand regret, et braqua le regard dans celui du jeune homme. Ses yeux étaient froids et déterminés.

-Le secret est révélé, lâcha-t-elle laconiquement. Que comptes-tu en faire ?

-Le secret ? Quel secret ? Que tu te transformes en cette chose énorme et velue ? Qu'est-ce que tu es ? Un genre de… de loup-garou hypertrophié ? glapit le pauvre garçon sous le choc.

-Un genre, oui, lâcha Niamh d'un ton sarcastique tout en se tenant à une distance raisonnable de son ami après lui avoir fait lâcher sa main.

Richard devint soudain tout pâle, ses yeux se révulsèrent, et il s'écroula comme une masse. _Ev anoui_ , détermina-t-elle en se penchant sur lui. Le choc, la douleur et la perte de sang avaient eu raison de lui. Inquiète, elle attrapa le téléphone de son ami et composa le numéro des secours tout en se résignant mentalement à devoir abandonner cette ville et la vie qu'elle avait construite ici. Personne ne devait connaître son secret, mais elle ne se résolvait pas à devoir tuer son meilleur ami. S'il racontait ce qu'il avait vu aux ambulanciers du NHS (National Health Service) qui le secourraient, personne ne le croirait, et comme elle aurait disparu, on ne pourrait pas lui poser de question ou analyser son sang ou son ADN. En attendant l'arrivée du NHS, Niamh entreprit de dissimuler le corps du golden retriever, de façon à ce que personne n'ait l'idée d'étudier les plaies mortelles reçues par le chien, et qui auraient permis de l'identifier elle. Elle, ainsi que l'espèce à laquelle elle appartenait. Ou plutôt, techniquement, _les_ espèces, si on se fiait à son étrange bâtardise.

Elle cacha le chien mort dans une benne à ordures deux rues plus loin en priant pour que les éboueurs, qui passaient le lendemain, ne regardent pas dedans avant de la vider dans leur camion et que le cadavre serait écrasé dans la benne du véhicule avant qu'on ne le voie. Quand elle revint dans la ruelle, Richard était toujours inconscient, mais un homme était penché sur lui. Niamh ne put se contenir, et un grognement agressif filtra entre ses lèvres. L'homme releva la tête et croisa son regard. Il se redressa, lissa son costume gris et sa cravate d'une main et tendit l'autre devant lui.

-Gaspard Alves, enchanté de faire votre connaissance, se présenta-t-il avec un fort accent français.

Méfiante de nature, Niamh se tint à une distance raisonnable de l'homme, refusant de lui serrer la main tant qu'elle n'aurait pas plus confiance en lui.

-Qui êtes-vous, qu'est-ce que vous faisiez penché sur mon ami ? gronda-t-elle avec animosité.

Sans se vexer, le grand brun sourit d'un air franc invitant à la confiance.

-Je monte une équipe de personnes spéciales pour résoudre une crise à l'échelle mondiale. Vous remplissez les critères.

-Quels critères ? Et quelle crise, d'abord ?

-Tout autour du globe, des attaques d'animaux sont enregistrées, allant de la morsure de chien au massacre de groupes entiers de touristes par des lions en Afrique. Votre ami a été victime de ce phénomène, et vous l'avez secouru en utilisant votre talent spécial, répliqua le mystérieux homme sans se départir de son sourire.

-Nous avons été attaqués par des chiens enragés, c'est tout. Bien que ce soit déplorable, ça n'a rien à voir avec un phénomène mondial, alors vous pouvez garder vos théories du complot pour vous et votre équipe de malades, répliqua Niamh avec mauvaise humeur en s'approchant de son ami et en prenant sa température, une main sur son front.

Il était un peu chaud, mais c'était peut-être juste en lien avec la poussée d'adrénaline qui l'avait parcouru pendant l'agression.

-Les membres de mon équipe ont tous découvert des éléments corroborant cette théorie, mademoiselle O'Connor. Tout ce dont ils ont besoin, maintenant, c'est d'une personne comprenant le comportement des animaux aussi bien que vous. Une personne qui pourrait également décrypter les signes d'une attaque imminente dans l'odeur du vent ou le silence d'une forêt…

Niamh serra les mâchoires, soudain tendue comme un arc, prête à se jeter sur Alves pour le faire taire à jamais. Malheureusement, la sirène de l'ambulance retentit à la lisière de son ouïe, lui signifiant clairement qu'elle n'aurait pas le temps de réduire au silence cet homme, dissimuler son corps et son sang, et prétendre que rien ne c'était passé avant que le NHS n'arrive sur place. Elle devait jouer la montre, et monter dans l'ambulance avec son ami, pour ensuite prendre la fuite sitôt arrivés à l'hôpital. Elle rentrerait ensuite chez elle et ferait ses valises pour une autre ville, voire même un autre pays.

-Je n'ai jamais vécu à la campagne, ni même campé de toute ma vie, vous vous trompez de personne, railla-t-elle avec conviction.

-Je sais qui vous êtes, mademoiselle O'Connor, je sais qui sont vos parents. Quels sont leurs noms, déjà… fit-il mine de ne pas se rappeler. Ah oui, je me souviens ! Aoife et Jorgen.

Niamh se figea, la colère ronflant dans son cœur et menaçant de déborder. Déjà, elle devait contenir le grondement qui montait dans sa gorge ainsi que ses crocs qui menaçaient de jaillir. De même, elle devinait que ses iris avaient déjà dû virer à l'or sous le coup de l'adrénaline.

-Décidément, vous êtes bien mal informé, mon père s'appelle Nathanaël, répliqua-t-elle en tentant de dissimuler son agitation.

-Allons, cessons cette mascarade. Je vois clair dans votre jeu. Vous essayez de gagner du temps pour pouvoir vous enfuir en même temps que votre ami.

Bien qu'énervée d'être ainsi percée à jour, Niamh se retint de sauter à la gorge d'Alves.

-Vous vous trompez, s'obstina-t-elle avec un aplomb inflexible pour masquer l'angoisse qui montait dans son for intérieur.

-Je pensais vous persuader de m'accompagner dans cette quête, mais je vois que votre anonymat vous importe plus que de sauver le monde. Après tout, vous n'avez rien à craindre de ces animaux agressifs, n'est-ce pas ? Aucun n'oserait attaquer une fille de louve et de berserker.

Cette fois, Niamh dut mobiliser toute sa conscience pour ne pas laisser sortir son côté animal. Elle prit brusquement vingt centimètres, ses griffes lui entaillèrent les paumes, ses crocs percèrent ses gencives et une fourrure clairsemée commença à recouvrir sa peau. En respirant bruyamment, elle focalisa sa volonté sur la régression de sa transformation et parvint à reprendre une apparence strictement humaine. Une froide lueur ténébreuse dans le regard, elle se tourna vers le mystérieux homme.

-Qu'est-ce que vous voulez, exactement ? Où vous voulez en venir avec vos insinuations ?

Affichant un petit sourire satisfait parfaitement insupportable, Alves lissa une nouvelle fois sa cravate et braqua son regard dans celui de la jeune fille alors que résonnait de plus en plus proche les sirènes de l'ambulance.

-Je veux en venir au fait que j'ai des preuves irréfutables concernant votre nature, ainsi que quelques extraits vidéos de vos transformations, dont celle qui vous a permis de sauver votre ami. Bien évidemment, je n'ai rien sur moi, mais si vous décidiez de me tuer pour garder le secret, sachez que j'ai quelques amis qui ont pour mission d'inonder les réseaux sociaux avec ces preuves au cas où je ne leur ferais pas des rapports réguliers.

Avec une mine écœurée, Niamh observa le grand brun de haut en bas, se demandant comment un être aussi abject pouvait aussi bien présenter.

-Evidemment, si vous me suivez et rencontrez les autres membres de l'équipe, je supprimerai les éléments que j'ai accumulés contre vous. Je me doute que les membres de votre espèce ne seraient pas ravis que leur secret soit dévoilé, aussi, j'escompte que vous acceptiez gentiment.

-Ignoble salaud, marmonna Niamh à voix basse, dents dévoilées comme pour grogner.

Bien qu'ayant une apparence humaine la plupart du temps, elle n'en gardait pas moins un certain nombre de comportements animaux assez embarrassants en public. Elle grognait aisément quand elle était de mauvaise humeur, claquait des mâchoires comme pour mordre les personnes qui l'agaçaient, reniflait l'air de façon parfois un peu insistante, et ce n'était que la partie émergée de l'iceberg…

Elle aurait aimé pouvoir se poser pour réfléchir, mais Alves tapota sa montre, lui signifiant on ne peut plus clairement qu'elle n'avait plus beaucoup de temps pour se décider.

-Très bien. J'accepte, finit-elle par lâcher quand l'ambulance s'engagea prudemment dans la petite ruelle.

Elle expliqua rapidement la situation aux brancardiers, qui chargèrent Richard dans leur véhicule, lui laissa un message annonçant son départ précipité pour raisons personnelles et lui souhaita un prompt rétablissement, puis vint se camper devant Alves.

-Où est-ce qu'on va ? demanda-t-elle avec mauvaise humeur.

Alves sourit, ou plutôt, afficha un rictus vainqueur qui lui hérissa la nuque de déplaisir.

-D'abord, à l'aéroport. Nous allons au Japon, mademoiselle O'Connor, rencontrer le reste de l'équipe.

Merci d'avoir lu, dites-moi ce que vous en avez pensé, siouplé :)


	2. Chapter 2 : Meeting the team

**Here's the second chapter, sorry if I'm a bit slow, I don't translate really fast...**

 **Please, leave a review, it would be fantastic :)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 2**

"Can I at least pick up some clothes at my apartment before following you anywhere ?

"Off course", Alves nodded, motioning her to lead the way.

They quickly went by her apartment, which was most like an icy semi-basement where she was doing it easily despite the low temperature, and she could grab the few belongings she had. Which means barely three trousers, four tee-shirts, a few spare underwears and three tatty books. When he entered his recruit's home, Alves couldn't help but noticing the total absence of family photos, whereas he saw a few with some friends of hers. Though he was intrigued, he kept for himself his thoughts, well aware that his curiosity wouldn't be welcome. Instead of this, he pushed on the girl to speed up.

"Our plane takes off in two hous, and we still got to arrive there and buy the tickets", he said nervously.

"I'm almost done", grumbled Niamh, finishing to pack up a mysterious wooden box sealed with wax.

She slipped the strap of her bag to her shoulder and showed Alves she was ready.

When they arrived at the airport, barely a half hour early, Alves was on the nerves, Niamh was still grumpy, since he started to blackmail her, and the vibes between the two of them were so bad everyone could feel it. When they had to register their luggage, a passenger made them loose a few more minutes, and almost drove Alves to snap, while Niamh was enjoying the scene.

Nonetheless, they managed to board the plane, and both had to support each other during the flight, although a phone call relaxed the tension. With her overdelopped hearing, Niamh could totally spy on Alves' conversation, but first, she didn't give a single fuck about it, and second, to prick up her ears would mean hearing all the plane's noises, and that she did not want at all. However, she roughly understood that the mysterious man was encountering trouble in his work, regarding the anxious wrinkle which was now barring his forehead.

They finally landed in Tokyo. It was the first time Niamh was so far from home. Well, she lived a bit in Norway and in Sweden, she quickly went to Italy, but she mainly lived and stayed in France and United Kingdom. To her, Japan was _terra incognita_. She got off the plane with the other passengers, and stared at Alves as he was rushing to the exit without even getting his bag back.

"Miss O'Connor, I have an emergency, one of your future colleagues…"

" _Maybe_ future colleagues", corrected Niamh with spite.

"Whatever, him and another are stuck on a radioactive island, off Fukushima. I have to pick them up urgently. Stay here and wait for my return."

And just like that, he slipped away. Stuck on a radioactive island ?! What the fuck ? Niamh didn't really have the time to ask him, as he was already far, so she just grabbed Alves' bag and went fetch her own in the huge room meant for that purpose. She warmly thanked the smiling employee who gave her her luggage, quite capable of showing sociability with nice people, and took a seat in an overpopulated café to wait for Alves' return.

All the smells assaulting her nose sickened her, not even speaking of the footsteps, the shoutings of hurried people, the cries of the whimsical or lost children, the announcements of the loudspeakers she didn't even understand a single word, the sound of the casters of the suitcases that traveled the uneven ground… Aiming to empty her head and saturate her hearing, she put her earphones in her ears and played her favorite playlist, which only consisted in rock and metal, and ordered a hot chocolate to the server who approached her.

Alves went back two hours later, after she just drank her third hot chocolate and ate her fourth butter pastry. Two men accompanied him, one tall, husky black man with a friendly face, and one smaller, thiner, with white skin and a three-days beard, a worried glint in the eye. Alves quickly introduced them to her as Jackson Oz and Abraham Kenyatta, zoologist and safari organizers in Africa.

"Gentlemen, this is one of your future colleagues, Niamh O'Connor. She is a… well, let's say that she knows how to deal with wolves and animals in general", he prevaricated as he saw the deadly look she gave him when shen understood he was about to reveal her secret to total strangers. "Fine, we are full, we can join the others."

He took his bag from Niamh's hand, well aware to be really close to a dangerous predator, capable of ripping his thoat apart if he made a wrong move. He took the lead of their group and lead them outside. He called out a cab, and motioned them to get in. He sat confortably in the front, while Niamh had to settle for a narrow seat, tight between Jackson Oz and Abraham Kenyatta, almost unable to move in such a tiny space.

It was a really silent ride. The driver wouldn't say a word, Alves was browsing his phone, and Oz and Kenyatta were separated by the girl, making it almost impossible for a private chat. As for Niamh, no need to say that she was still brooding. Within a day, she was attacked by mad dogs, she had to tell her best friend about her greatest secret, then to leave him behind her when a total stranger threatened her to reveal the existence of metamorphs to the whole world, she then abandonned her apartment in a panic, she took the plane to Japan and was now travelling with her blackmailer and two complete strangers who had nothing in common with her.

"You said we were to meet the rest of the team ?" ended up asking Oz.

"Yes. They are waiting for us, and you are also going to meet our sponsor."

The cab eventually stopped by a big windowed building which Alves entered in, quickly followed by his three recruits. Dozens of persons in suits attended their businesses, stopping to have a few words together before parting their ways. The whole building was buzzing with chatting sounds, the workers' footsteps, bosses who reprimanded their subordinates, the noises of machines, computers, elevators and printers on the floor.

Again, to fix this problem, Niamh screw her earphones in her ears and played her playlist. Soon, the bass of the music covered all the other sounds, giving her time to breathe. God, she _hated_ overpopulated places… Jackson and Abraham glared at her in stealth, thinking she didn't notice them, their incomprehension clearly apparent on their faces. Abraham drew Alves' attention as they approached the elevator, and decided to apease both their curiosity.

"I thought you were building a team concerning the animal attacks, isn't she a little young for that ?"

Alves had a carnivorous grin and glanced at Niamh, who was observing them without embarrassment.

"She is most likely the one who's the least in danger, in this story. Don't worry about her young age."

They entered the elevator, triggering a wave of anxiety in Niamh's mind, who didn't handle well altitude, and even less confinement. Alves selected the thirty second floor, to the great displeasure of Niamh, who packed herself against the wall, slightly paling in fear. Abraham put a massive hand on her shoulder with a soothing smile. Although she wasn't happy about her current position, forced to follow Alves, she still admitted that the big guy was nice, and so she smiled back.

Getting to the due floor, Alves came out of the elevator first and lead the way. On this floor, there was a lot less noise, so Niamh removed her earphones to try and determine only with her hearing how many were the others, and where they were waiting. She virtually crossed a few empty meeting rooms, mapping approximately the place until she found an occupied room.

"Do you realize we just travelled halfway around the world because a random French guy asked us to, right ?" a woman said in a stunned and baffled voice.

"Everything's better than this Christmas bar", a man retorted with such a biting sarcasm in his voice that Niamh instantely liked him.

"Here it is", Alves said, pushing the door of the room.

The four of them entered the room, Alves first, as usual, then Abraham, Jackson, and finally Niamh closing the march. Extending his hand towards each of them, the french man introduced them.

"Jackson Oz, Abraham Kenyatta, Niamh O'Connor, doctor Mitch Morgan and Jamie Campbell".

The woman, Jamie, shook hands with the two men, while the doctor waved at them from afar, as Niamh did. She was there under duress and so was not very cooperative although the young woman looked nice, unlike her blackmailer.

"I know you all have many questions, but if you'll please, take seat."

Jackson and Abraham drew two seats, in front of Jamie, and Niamh sat as far as she could from Alves, finding herself seating face to face with Mitch. To mark her bad mood, in case anyone would have missed it, she put as well her feet on a chair and crossed her arms, her luggage on the ground next to her.

A never-ending seeming silence separated the six people, during which they stared at each other like faience dogs, waiting for someone to talk. Niamh was a patient girl, and most of all, she _loved_ that silence, so she didn't want to be the first to break the silence. The one who endured it the least was the doctor Mitch Morgan.

"Ok, that's weird."

Yeah. Although she did like that silence, nevertheless, Niamh was here only because she was blackmailed. So the least thing would be to start the damn meeting.

"Yeah, what the hell are we waiting for ? Are we gonna stay there doing nothing for ever ?" she growled, standing up from her chair with agressivity. "I came here, OK, I've met the others, but…"

"We're waiting for Monsieur Delavane", tempered Alves, interrupting her.

Speaking of the devil… The door suddenly opened, and a tall black man, wearing an elegant dark suit entered the room. He smoothed his tie, took a deep breath and began to talk.

"Greetings, and excuse me for all the cloak and dagger."

Rumbling in grumpiness, Niamh sat back on her seat, in a rather caricatural attitude of teen bitch, arms crossed and dark face. It was in the best interest of that Delavane dude he had interesting things to tell.

"The four of you", he started, pointing out to Jackson, Abraham, Mitch and Jamie, "are here because your suspicions over the last few weeks are correct."

"Hey, wait a sec", intervened Jamie, pointing Niamh with her head. "You said _four_ ? Why not five ?"

"Because _you_ investigated", answered obligingly with a deliberate sarcastic voice, glaring to Alves straight in his eyes. "I am the one who's blackmailed to be here, I asked for nothing of this. I've seen nothing about all this, provided that there _is_ something to notice."

"What ?" exclaimed the young woman, looking outraged. "But…"

"We'll deal with that later", interrupted Delavane, glancing a severe look to Alves. "Anyway, back on topic, you are all aware of the lion killings in Botswana and Los Angeles. But there have also been a series of dog attacks in Slovenia."

"And in Japan, hundreds of bats swarmed a plane and brought it down into the ocean."

Niamh frowned, more and more intrigued, and sat up straight on her seat. In doing so, she intercepted Alves' sly and satisfied look, which bristled her neck in rage. She was intenting to show up at the meeting, to listen distractedly to this band of crazies debating about a possible animal Revolution, and then escape as soon it would be over, making sure Alves wouldn't reveal her secret. And there, she was having the exact reaction he was expecting from her : curiosity. He managed to pique her interest, and God knows she always had a really hard time refraining her curiosity. Containing her to grunt after herself and Alves, she tried her best to hide her new interest in that "secret mission".

Animals don't attack humans so often, and as the lion attacks in Africa didn't even make her care about, the lion attacks in L.A were a lot more fishy. Wild lions, in sight to defend their cubs or their territory, could well assault on humans, but "domestic" lions, caged in zoos and spending most of their daytime sleeping and lounging under the sun's rays, they were unlikely to attack. Ok, it was possible, but first, that would mean that they had to escape their cages, then, they had to have the will to attack people. It needed a hell of an excess of aggressiveness to just happen. Not to mention the bats Jackson talked about, providing that they really were hundreds acting suicidal, throwing themselves at a flying plane…

Alves grabbed the remote of a small television, up on a rolling table, and turned it on. A series of videos went on the screen, showing a rhinoceros attack, against a car. These animals' power was impressive, even through a screen. Niamh slightly paled in axiety and swallowed hard. Not that the dead people resulting the assault overawed her, but she was fearing that this pachydermic beast could defeat her animal form, and it was terrifying. She'd never met any animal able of such a feat, besides the other wolves or Bersekers which didn't count because of their humane intelligence.

"In Jakarta, three Sumatran rhinoceros turned over an SUV belonging to a family of Norwegian tourists. The rhinos waited for the family, father, mother, two children, to exit the vehicle and then trapled them. In Wuppertal, Germany, six brown bears came out of the Kothen forest, making their way to a playground in mid-afternoon."

Around the table, the reactions were quite the same. Jamie held her hand on her moutch, horrified, Mitch looked like halfway between horror and apathy, as paradoxal it was, Jackson looked down, incapable of facing the terrible images, and Abraham was hiding his face with his hand. None of them wanted to watch the video.

"The massacre that followed left seven dead children and another fourteen injured."

The four recruits of Delavane looked like they were struggling to not be overwhelmed by a wave of sorrow, their features distorted by grief. As soon as something hurt children, humans tended to react a lot more deeply than when one of their adult congener was hurt. Niamh was disturbing the scene. Although she lived with humans, their death or misfortunes didn't affect her in any way. Well, except for Richard... She didn't belong to the same species, so whether they lived or died, she didn't give a shit, as long as they didn't discover the Secret. Alves took the remote again and tunred off the television, his showing over.

"Taken individually, each of these incidents can just be seen as horrific tagic event. I believe there are evidence of something else."

Niamh remained silent, thinking about all the involvements of these attacks. First, humans were going to become extremely suspicious towards animals, and especially towards dangerous animals, such as lions, rhinoceros, panthers… or bears and wolves. Though she had been banned from her pack, she thought about it. All of them were wolves, half wild, who cherished the liberty and their animal form. If wolves attacks made the headlines, hunters would be eager to hunt down her old family, if they were caught in _flagrante delicto_ of running of hunting in their wolf form. And it would only need one death on the wolves' side for that bloody retaliations blush the neighoring villages, fueling even more the tensions…

All of a sudden, Niamh understood that it wasn't only for the human species to be menaced by the animal kingdom, but also for the metamorphs. Not only the wolves, but the Berserkers too would be in danger, touchy as they were, capable of transform themselves and fight for trifles.

"And what is that, exactly ?" Jackson said, almost interrupting Delavane.

"The global pandemic your father believed was about to emerge… it appears, it has arrived."

Again, a worried and worrying silence separated the seven people in the room. Niamh leaned against the back of her seat, in a deep meditation, and having noticed only the "global pandemic" words. On the other hand, Irascible Mitch noticed other words…

"Sorry, his father… ?" he asked in a drawling voice.

"Professor Robert Oz", answered laconically Delavane.

Jamie's gaze went back and forth between Delavane and Jackson, that name clearly ringing a bell in her mind. Niamh just listened closely, sensing the situation was about to get worse.

"We're all here because you believe that the scientifica theories of a notorious crackpot are now coming to pass ?"

 _Seen in this light_ … Niamh admitted, cocking her head an pouted.

"Watch yourself, scrawny…" Abraham warned the scientist, immediately defending his friend.

"Mitch Morgan as advertised", Delavane let out with a disillusionned look.

"This is all very interesting and definitely disturbing but… none of this proves anything. Certainly not the coming of the animal apocalypse."

On this point, Niamh agreeded with the doc, but she still was worried about a few things. If none of these arguments were genuine proof, she still couldn't explain that strange bound, pushing her to murder humans, when she turned, the day before… She was still shivering of fear, imagining the dire consequences if she had succumbed to it…

"And that's why I had Monsieur Alves bring the six of you together."

"Six ? I count five", intervened Jamie, frowning.

Niamh, until that moment focusing on the pandemic, pricked up her ears and picked up the sound of footsteps in the corridor, closing to the door. Heels clicking on the ground, and a quick though regular breathing. Immediately after she stared at the door, expected the imminent entrance of the newcomer, it opened and all the others looked at it too. A blonde young woman with a concerned look on her face came in, wearing a blue blouse and black trousers, her ponytail flying behind her as she went standing between Delavane and Alves, hands filled with papers. Jackson cocked his head towards her, and Niamh thought he might knew her, though he was the only one.

"This is Chloe Toussignant. She will also be working with you."

"Hello", she greeted politely, glancing at Jackson.

"Miss Toussignant will function as my proxy. As my eyes and my ears. Every decision that is made will go through her. Miss Toussignant is in charge. Something is most assuredly going on out there. All we want is for you to figure out what it is… before it's too late", Delavenne concluded in a serious tone. "Thank you for your attention. I am going to let you get to know each other and wish you good luck", he added while leaving the room.

While the other recruits were standing from their seats, Alves rushed to Niamh and screwed his gaze in hers.

"So, are you gonna stay with us ?"

"Yeah…" she mumbled, deliberately looking away from him.

"You'd better tell them, if that's so", pointing them with his chin.

Niamh sighed, but she understood the need of sharing the info with the others. At one time or another, she'd have to transform in the heat of the moment, and it would be better for everyone if the others were aware of her… condition. They'd be less scared and wouldn't try to shoot her on sight… As everyone was about to go, she stopped them. Alves followed Delavane and left the room. The others glared weirdly at her, as if they couldn't fathom what the heck was a teen doing in their team, on one hand, and on another hand, why she wanted so hard to speak.

"Ok, since his blackmailed seems to work, I'm gonna stay in the team", she started.

Mitch sighed, already annoyed by this girl.

"Wonderful, think I care", he grumbled, already going to go.

Niamh closed her eyes, refraining a wave of irritation.

"And for I stay, there's something you need to know about me."

She was silent, she was gathering her courage. It wasn't nothing to swing such an info to a group of strangers. Especially since, for now, the adults were glaring at her as if she was a teen trying to get noticed to fill her lack of attention. It was one of the "side effects" of being a metamorph. At least for her wolf side, because she didn't notice than the Berserkers lived a lot longer than humans. And so, metamorphs were getting old far slower than humans. Besides, from the wolf side she inherited from her mother, she had noted that some members of the pack, mostly healers and counselors, reached the venerable age of two hundred to three hundred years old. There even was a legend, a tale told by the wolf cubs that once, that they had an alpha who was a thousand years old, but she didn't believe it. To summarize, the recruits of Delavane were watching a seventeen years old girl, trying to draw attention on her, while in reality, her first transformation, which occurred precisely the year of her seventeen years, was already three years old. She was as adult as they were, according to their standards.

"Go on, don't worry", Jamie comforted her with a smile, being far the most comprehensive and maternal of the five.

Niamh thanked her with a nod, and started to talk again.

"If Alves brought me there, it's because he thinks that my… special gift… could be useful. And now, I realize that, indeed, he was right, it could save our lives from time to time." She took a deep breath, after all, it was still her greatest secret she was about to reveal to total strangers. "I don't belong to humankind, but to metamorphs. And I am myself an hybrid of two subspecies, but your can just memorize I am… some sort of werewolf."

There. She was now punishable by death within the pack. Revealing the secret to a human was already an intolerable affront to the face of the alpha of her pack, but also to the whole species. Revealing the secret to a bunch of humans was even worse. If she ever set foot on here father's territory again, she'd never get away alive.

A deafening silence weighed between the six recruits. Jamie and Jackson were just as stunned as Chloe was embarrassed for Niamh and so was looking away in discomfort. Abraham was staring at her, straight in her eyes, hesitant, and Mitch…

"Ha !" he bursted in a mocking laughter. "You kidding me ? And I am the Queen of England ! No, seriously, who thought it was a good idea to recruit the son of a mad scientist and a disturbed girl ?" he asked aggressively to Chloé, who denied all responsibility in this decision with a nod.

 _A disturbed girl ?_ Niamh groaned at this mention. She had a pretty cumbersome pride when it came to her species, and she couldn't stand racist insults. Her eyes turned gold in a second, and her fangs grew suddenly, but Mitch was turning his back to her and so didn't notice anything. None of the others either did, too busy folowing Mitch's glance towards the door which Alves and Delavane went through to leave the room.

"Maybe that, with a demonstration, our skeptical friend would calm down ?" suggested Abraham in a appeasing attempt.

"No way", retorted Niamh shaking her head vigorously. "Too dangerous. Anyone could come in and see me, on one hand, and since it's a jealously guarded secret, it is out of the question that even more people discover it, and on the other hand, it's dangerous. The last time I transformed, I felt weird, a lot more aggressive than usual, on the verge of loosing reason. It was like a compulsion whipping my veins like adrenaline, almost as strong as it. I can't take the risk to kill you and compromise the mission", she concluded.

In their eyes, she read no faith. Not a single one was believing her. Mitch rolled his eyes to the heavens and the other four were fleeing her gaze. Well, she didn't give a fuck. May they continue not to believe her, but she'll have to transform –she had no doubt it would happen at a time–, they'll _have_ to believe her. Anyway, for now, none of them looked very excited about carting around a teen as crazy as Jackson's father. Only Abraham seemed to incline to give her the benefit of the doubt, but she didn't notice, too busy following Chloé who was leaving the room.

* * *

 **Et voilà le deuxième chapitre, désolé si je mets du temps à poster, il faut que je traduise en anglais et ça me prend du temps...**

 **Laissez des reviews siouplé :) J'en ai besoin pour m'améliorer !**

 **CHAPITRE 2**

-Je peux récupérer quelques vêtements, quand même, avant de vous suivre n'importe où ?

-Bien sûr, acquiesça Alves en lui faisant signe d'ouvrir la marche.

Ils passèrent rapidement faire un tour à son appartement, qui consistait plus en une semi-cave glacée dans laquelle elle évoluait sans difficulté, et elle put rafler le peu d'effets personnels qu'elle avait avec elle. A peine trois pantalons et quatre t-shirts, quelques sous-vêtements d'avance et trois livres écornés. En entrant dans le domicile de sa nouvelle recrue, Alves ne put que constater l'absence totale de photos de sa famille, alors qu'il en vit plusieurs prises avec des amis. Bien que cela l'intrigue, il garda pour lui ses réflexions, bien conscient que sa curiosité ne serait pas la bienvenue. A la place, il incita la jeune fille à accélérer le mouvement.

-Notre avion décolle dans deux heures, et il faut encore que nous y arrivions et que nous prenions les billets, fit-il remarquer nerveusement.

-J'ai presque fini, maugréa Niamh en terminant d'empaqueter une mystérieuse petite boîte en bois scellée à la cire.

Elle passa la sangle de son sac à son épaule et fit signe à Alves qu'elle était prête.

Quand ils arrivèrent à l'aéroport, avec à peine une demi-heure d'avance, Alves était sur les nerfs, Niamh toujours de mauvaise humeur depuis qu'il avait commencé à la faire chanter, et l'atmosphère entre eux était si électrique qu'elle aurait pu faire friser les cheveux des passants. Au moment de faire enregistrer leurs bagages, un passager devant eux les retarda encore, poussant presque à bout le grand brun tandis que Niamh savourait la scène.

Ils parvinrent néanmoins à embarquer, et durent se supporter durant tout le vol même si une brève accalmie apporta un relâchement de la tension lorsque Alves reçut un coup de téléphone. Grâce à son ouïe surdéveloppée, Niamh aurait pu espionner la conversation, mais d'une part elle n'en avait rien à carrer, et d'autre part, tendre l'oreille signifiait également entendre tous les rugissements du moteur de l'avion, ce dont elle n'avait absolument pas envie. Cependant, elle comprit grossièrement que le mystérieux homme affrontait des complications dans son travail, au regard de la ride soucieuse qui barrait désormais son front.

Ils atterrirent enfin, à Tokyo. C'était la première fois que Niamh s'éloignait autant de chez elle. Elle avait bien vécu un peu en Norvège et en Suède, rapidement en Italie, mais elle était surtout restée en France et en Angleterre. Le Japon, c'était _terra incognita_ , pour elle. Elle descendit de l'avion avec les autres passagers, et observa Alves se précipiter vers la sortie sans même récupérer son sac.

-Mademoiselle O'Connor, j'ai une urgence, l'un de vos futurs collègues…

- _Peut-être_ futur collègue, corrigea-t-elle avec hargne.

-Bref, lui et un autre son bloqués sur une île radioactive au large de Fukushima. Je dois aller les chercher en urgence. Restez ici et attendez mon retour.

Et il s'éclipsa. Bloqués sur une île radioactive ?! De qwaaa ? Niamh n'avait pas vraiment le temps de lui demander, comme il était déjà loin, aussi elle attrapa elle-même le bagage à main d'Alves et alla chercher son propre sac dans l'immense salle prévue à cet effet. Elle remercia chaleureusement l'employée souriante qui lui remit son bagage, tout à fait capable de faire preuve de sociabilité avec les gens sympathiques, et alla attendre le retour de son maître-chanteur dans un petit café surpeuplé.

Toutes les odeurs qui assaillaient son nez lui donnaient la nausée, sans parler des bruits de pas, des éclats de voix de gens pressés, des pleurs des enfants capricieux ou perdus, des annonces aux hauts-parleurs dont elle ne comprenait pas un traître mot, du son des roulettes de valises qui parcouraient le sol inégal… Pour se vider la tête et saturer son ouïe, elle enfonça ses écouteurs dans ses oreilles et lança sa playlist favorite, qui ne contenait que des morceaux de rock et de métal, et commanda un chocolat chaud à la serveuse qui s'approcha d'elle.

Alves ne revint que deux heures plus tard, après qu'elle eut terminé son troisième chocolat et mangé quatre viennoiseries au beurre. Il était accompagné de deux hommes, un grand costaud noir au visage amical et un plus petit et plus fin, blanc, barbu et au regard inquiet. Rapidement, Alves les lui présenta comme Jackson Oz et Abraham Kenyatta, zoologue et organisateurs de safaris en Afrique.

-Messieurs, je vous présente une de vos futures collaboratrices, Niamh O'Connor. Elle est une… disons, qu'elle sait y faire avec les loups et les animaux en général, biaisa-t-il en voyant le regard meurtrier que la jeune fille lui lança en comprenant qu'il s'apprêtait à révéler son secret à deux parfaits inconnus. Bien. Nous sommes au complet, nous pouvons rejoindre les autres.

Il récupéra son sac sans un mot, bien conscient, lui, d'être tout près d'un prédateur capable de lui arracher la gorge s'il faisait un pas de travers, et prit la tête de leur groupe pour les mener dehors. Il héla un taxi et leur fit signe d'y grimper. Lui-même s'installa à l'avant, bien confortablement, tandis que Niamh dut se contenter de la place la plus étroite, serrée entre Jackson Oz et Abraham Kenyatta, quasiment incapable de bouger dans un si petit espace.

Le trajet se déroula dans un silence assourdissant. Le conducteur ne disait pas un mot, Alves consultait son téléphone, et Oz et Kenyatta étaient séparés l'un de l'autre, rendant impossible une discussion privée. Quant à Niamh, inutile de préciser qu'elle broyait toujours autant du noir. En une journée, elle avait été attaquée par des chiens, avait dû dévoiler son secret à son meilleur ami, puis l'abandonner derrière elle quand un parfait inconnu l'avait menacée de révéler l'existence des métamorphes au monde entier, elle avait ensuite abandonné son appartement en urgence, avait pris l'avion jusqu'au Japon et voyageait maintenant en compagnie de son maître-chanteur et de deux étrangers qui n'avaient rien en commun avec elle.

-Vous avez dit qu'on allait rencontrer le reste de l'équipe ? finit par demander Oz.

-Oui, ils nous attendent, vous allez aussi faire la connaissance de notre mécène.

Le taxi finit enfin par s'arrêter, devant un grand bâtiment vitré dans lequel entra Alves, rapidement suivi par ses trois recrues. Des dizaines de personnes en costume trois pièces vaquaient à leurs occupations, s'arrêtaient pour échanger quelques mots avant de repartir. Le bâtiment entier bruissait des sons des conversations, des pas des travailleurs, des réprimandes des patrons à l'encontre de leurs subalternes et des sons des machines, ordinateurs, ascenseurs et imprimantes qui occupaient chaque étage.

A nouveau, pour régler ce problème, Niamh enfonça profondément ses écouteurs dans ses oreilles et lança sa playlist. Rapidement, les basses recouvrirent les autres bruits, lui accordant un peu de répit. Dieu qu'elle détestait les ambiances surpeuplées… Jackson et Abraham lui jetaient des regards à la dérobée, pensant qu'elle ne les avait pas remarqués, leur incompréhension clairement lisible sur leurs traits. Abraham attira l'attention d'Alves alors qu'ils approchaient d'un ascenseur et décida de satisfaire leur curiosité à tous les deux.

-Je croyais que vous montiez une équipe par rapport aux attaques d'animaux, elle est pas un peu jeune pour ça, elle ?

Alves eut un rictus carnassier et jeta un coup d'œil à Niamh, qui les observait sans gêne.

-Elle est probablement celle de vous tous qui sera la moins en danger, dans cette histoire. Ne vous inquiétez pas de son jeune âge.

Ils entrèrent dans la cabine de l'ascenseur, déclenchant une vague d'anxiété chez Niamh, qui ne supportait pas bien l'altitude, et encore moins l'enfermement. Alves sélectionna le trente-deuxième étage, au grand dam de Niamh qui se tassa contre le mur en pâlissant légèrement. Abraham lui posa une main massive sur l'épaule avec un sourire rassurant. Même si elle n'était pas ravie de sa position actuelle, contrainte de suivre Alves, elle reconnaissait que le grand Noir lui était sympathique et lui sourit donc en retour.

Arrivant à l'étage sélectionné, Alves sortit de l'ascenseur en premier et ouvrit la marche. Ici, il y avait nettement moins de bruit, aussi Niamh retira ses écouteurs et tendit l'oreille pour essayer de déterminer combien les autres étaient et où ils se trouvaient. Elle traversa virtuellement plusieurs salles de réunion vides, cartographiant grossièrement la zone juste à l'ouïe, jusqu'à tomber sur une pièce occupée.

-Vous vous rendez compte qu'on vient de faire un voyage à l'autre bout du monde parce qu'un mec rencontré par hasard nous l'a demandé ? disait une femme d'un ton stupéfait et déconcerté.

-C'est toujours mieux que ce bar et ses guirlandes de Noël, répliqua un homme avec un sarcasme tellement mordant que Niamh l'apprécia immédiatement.

-C'est ici, annonça Alves en poussant la porte de la salle.

Ils entrèrent tous les quatre, Alves premier, puis Abraham, Jackson, et Niamh fermant la marche. Etendant la main en direction de chacun d'eux, le français fit les présentations.

-Jackson Oz, Abraham Kenyatta, Niamh O'Connor, Docteur Mitch Morgan et Jamie Campbell.

La femme, Jamie, serra poliment la main aux deux hommes, tandis que le docteur saluait de loin en agitant la main, à l'image de Niamh, présente sous la contrainte et donc très peu coopérative bien que la jeune femme ait l'air sympathique, à l'opposé de son maître-chanteur.

-Je sais que vous avez tous de nombreuses questions mais avant, si vous voulez bien, prenez place, les invita Alves.

Jackson et Abraham tirèrent deux sièges face à Jamie et Niamh s'éloigna le plus possible d'Alves, se retrouvant à s'asseoir face à Mitch. Pour bien marquer sa mauvaise humeur, au cas où quelqu'un ne l'aurait pas encore remarquée, elle posa également les pieds sur une seconde chaise et croisa les bras, son sac de voyage posé à côté d'elle.

Un silence interminable sépara les six personnes, durant lequel tous se jetèrent des regards en chien de faïence, attendant que l'un d'eux parle. Patiente, et surtout appréciant _beaucoup_ ce silence, Niamh se garda bien d'être la première à la rompre. Ce fut le docteur Morgan qui le supporta le moins longtemps.

-Ok, c'est bizarre.

Oui, même si elle aimait bien le silence, il n'en restait pas moins pour Niamh qu'elle n'était présente que parce qu'on la menaçait. La moindre de choses serait donc de faire en sorte que la réunion commence pour qu'elle puisse se tirer dès qu'elle serait terminée.

-Ouais, qu'est-ce qu'on attend au juste ? On va rester plantés là sans rien faire pendant combien de temps ? gronda-t-elle en se levant de sa chaise avec agressivité. Je suis venue, j'ai rencontré les autres, mais...

-Nous attendons Monsieur Delavenne, tempéra Alves en lui coupant la parole.

Quand on parle du loup… La porte s'ouvrit soudain, et un homme noir de haute taille vêtu d'un élégant costume entra. Il lissa sa cravate, prit une grande inspiration et prit la parole.

-Bonjour à tous, je vous présente mes excuses pour tous ces mystères.

En maugréant avec mauvaise humeur, Niamh se rassit dans son fauteuil, dans une attitude assez caricaturale d'ado bougon, bras croisés et visage fermé. Il y avait intérêt pour ce Delavenne qu'il ait des trucs intéressants à dire…

-Vous êtes ici tous les quatre, commença-t-il en désignant Jackson, Abraham, Mitch et Jamie, parce que vos soupçons au sujet des événements de ces dernières semaines sont fondés.

-Attendez une seconde, vous avez dit _quatre_ ? Pourquoi pas cinq ? intervint Jamie en montrant Niamh d'un mouvement de tête.

-Parce que vous, vous avez enquêté, répondit obligeamment la jeune fille d'un ton délibérément sarcastique en regardant Alves droit dans les yeux. Moi, on me fait chanter pour être ici, j'ai rien demandé, et j'avais rien vu, si tant est qu'il y ait quelque chose à voir.

-Quoi ? s'exclama la jeune femme, l'air outré. Mais…

-Nous réglerons cela plus tard, l'interrompit Delavenne en jetant un regard sévère à Alves. Pour en revenir à nos moutons, vous êtes bien sûr au courant des attaques de lions au Botswana et à Los Angeles. Une série d'attaques de chiens a également eu lieu en Slovénie…

-Oui, et au Japon, des chauve-souris par centaines se sont jetées sur un avion et ont provoqué sa chute dans l'océan, renchérit Jackson.

Niamh fronça les sourcils, de plus en plus intriguée, et se redressa sur sa chaise. Ce faisant, elle intercepta le regard satisfait d'Alves, qui lui hérissa la nuque de rage. Elle avait eut l'intention de se pointer à la réunion, d'écouter distraitement cette bande de fous furieux débattre au sujet d'une possible Révolution animale et de se sauver dès qu'elle aurait été terminée en s'assurant qu'Alves ne révèlerait pas le secret. Et là, elle avait exactement la réaction qu'il attendait d'elle : la curiosité. Il avait réussi à piquer sa curiosité, et elle avait toujours eu un mal de chien à la réfréner. Contenant un grognement de colère, après elle et après Alves, elle fit de son mieux pour dissimuler son intérêt nouveau pour cette "mission secrète".

Les animaux n'attaquaient pas si souvent que ça les humains, et autant l'attaque de lions en Afrique ne lui faisait ni chaud ni froid, autant les lions à L.A, c'était déjà plus louche. Les lions sauvages, pour défendre leurs petits ou un territoire, pouvaient fort bien s'en prendre à des humains, mais des lions "domestiques", enfermés dans des cages dans les zoos et passant la majeure partie de leurs journées à dormir et paresser au soleil, attaquer des gens ? Cela suggérait déjà qu'ils s'évadent de leur enclos, et qu'ils manifestent ensuite la volonté de s'en prendre à des personnes. Il fallait un sacré surplus d'agressivité pour que ça arrive. Sans parler des chauve-souris dont avait parlé Jackson, si elles étaient véritablement des centaines à agir de façon suicidaires et se jetant contre un avion en vol…

Alves s'empara de la télécommande d'une petite télévision montée sur un meuble à roulettes et l'alluma. Une série de vidéos passèrent à l'écran, la première montrant une attaque de rhinocéros contre une voiture. La puissance de ces animaux était impressionnante, même à travers un écran. Niamh blêmit légèrement et déglutit difficilement. Pas que les morts l'impressionnent, mais elle craignait qu'une force de la nature comme ce pachyderme puisse aisément venir à bout de sa forme animale, et cela la terrifiait. Elle n'avait encore jamais rencontré d'animal capable de la vaincre, et les autres loups ou Berserkers ne comptaient pas, puisqu'ils avaient une intelligence humaine.

-A Jakarta, trois rhinocéros de Sumatra ont renversé un véhicule appartenant à des touristes Norvégiens. Les rhinocéros ont attendu que la famille, le père, la mère et les deux enfants, sortent du véhicule pour les charger et les piétiner à mort. En Allemagne, à Wuppertal, six ours sont sortis de la forêt de Kothen et se sont introduits sur une aire de jeu en milieu d'après-midi.

Autour de la table, les réactions étaient à peu près toutes les mêmes. Jamie avait la main devant la bouche, horrifiée, Mitch semblait à mi-chemin entre l'horreur et l'indifférence, aussi paradoxal que cela semble, Jackson baissait les yeux, incapable d'affronter les terribles images, et Abraham se cachait le visage d'une main. Aucun ne voulait regarder la vidéo.

-Au cours du massacre qui a suivi, reprit Alves, sept enfants sont morts et quatorze autres ont été blessés.

Les quatre recrues de Delavenne paraissaient lutter pour ne pas se laisser submerger par une vague de chagrin, leurs traits déformés par la peine. Dès que cela touchait aux enfants, les humains avaient tendance à réagir beaucoup plus profondément que lorsque l'un de leurs congénères adulte était atteint. Niamh, elle, faisait tache dans le décor. Bien qu'elle vive au contact des humains, leur mort ou leurs malheurs ne la troublaient pas plus que ça. Bon, sauf concernant Richard, d'accord... Elle n'appartenait pas à leur espèce, aussi, qu'ils vivent ou qu'ils meurent, peu lui importait tant qu'ils ne découvraient pas le Secret. Alves reprit sa télécommande et éteignit la télévision, sa présentation terminée.

-Prises individuellement, chacune de ces attaques peut être considérée simplement comme un événement dramatique Pour ma part, je crois qu'elles sont la preuve d'autre chose.

Niamh garda le silence, réfléchissant aux implications de ces attaques. Première conséquence, les humains allaient devenir extrêmement méfiant à l'encontre des animaux, et plus particulièrement à l'encontre des animaux dangereux, comme les lions, les rhinocéros, les panthères… ou les ours et les loups. Bien qu'elle en ait été bannie, elle pensa à son ancienne meute. Tous des loups, à demi sauvages et chérissant leur forme animale et leur liberté. Si des attaques de loups défrayaient la chronique, les chasseurs s'en donneraient à cœur joie pour traquer son ancienne famille s'ils se faisaient prendre en flagrant délit de course ou de chasse sous forme bestiale. Et il suffisait d'un seul mort chez les loups pour que de sanglantes représailles rougissent les villages voisins, attisant encore les tensions…

Tout d'un coup, Niamh comprit que ce n'était pas seulement l'espèce humaine qui était menacée par le règne animal, mais également les métamorphes, et pas seulement les loups. Les Berserkers eux aussi seraient en danger, susceptibles comme ils étaient, capables de se transformer et de se battre pour des broutilles…

-A quoi pensez-vous exactement, fit Jackson, coupant quasiment la parole à Delavenne.

-Cette pandémie planétaire que craignait votre père a apparemment… déjà commencé.

Un nouveau silence inquiet et inquiétant sépara les sept personnes présentes dans la pièce. Niamh se rencogna dans son siège, plongée dans une profonde réflexion et n'ayant retenu que les mots « pandémie planétaire ». En revanche, Mitch l'irascible avait noté autre chose, lui…

-Je vous demande pardon, son père… ? demanda-t-il en laissant traîner la fin de sa phrase.

-Le professeur Robert Oz, répondit laconiquement Delavenne.

Le regard de Jamie fit l'aller-retour entre Delavenne et Jackson, comme si ce nom lui était familier. Niamh, elle, se contenta d'écouter, pressentant que la situation allait s'envenimer.

-Alors on est tous réunis ici parce que vous, vous croyez que les théories scientifiques d'un type totalement frappadingue sont en train de se réaliser ?

 _Vu comme ça…_ admit Niamh en inclinant la tête et en faisant la moue.

-Attention à ce que vous dites, vous faites pas le poids, le mit en garde Abraham, prenant immédiatement la défense de son ami.

-Mitch Morgan fidèle à sa réputation, lâcha Delavenne avec un regard désabusé.

-Tout ça est bien sûr très intéressant et sans aucun doute inquiétant, mais nous n'avons aucune preuve de quoi que ce soit. Et certainement pas que les animaux vont provoquer l'Apocalypse.

Sur ce point, Niamh rejoignait le doc, mais elle continuait tout de même à nourrir quelques inquiétudes. Si rien de tout ça ne constituait de véritables preuves, elle ne pouvait toujours pas expliquer cette étrange compulsion meurtrière qui l'avait parcourue quand elle s'était transformée, la veille… Elle en frissonnait encore, imaginant les conséquences catastrophiques si elle y avait succombé…

-Voilà pourquoi j'ai demandé à Monsieur Alves de vous réunir tous les six.

-Comment ça six ? On est cinq, intervint Jamie en fronçant les sourcils.

Niamh, jusque là concentrée sur la pandémie, tendit soudain l'oreille, interceptant des bruits de pas dans le couloir, qui se rapprochaient beaucoup de la porte. Des talons qui claquaient sur le sol, ainsi qu'une respiration rapide quoique régulière. Immédiatement après qu'elle eut braqué le regard sur la porte, celle-ci s'ouvrit, emportant le regard des autres avec elle. Une jeune femme blonde à l'air concentré entra, vêtue d'un chemisier bleu et d'un pantalon noir, sa queue de cheval battant l'air alors qu'elle venait se placer entre Delavenne et Alves, des documents plein les bras. Jackson redressa la tête, et Niamh se fit la réflexion qu'il devait la connaître, bien qu'il fût le seul parmi les recrues.

-Voici Chloé Toussignant, elle va travailler avec vous, la présenta Alves.

-Bonjour, salua-t-elle poliment bien qu'un brin tendue en échangeant un regard avec Jackson.

-Mademoiselle Toussignant aura pour mission de vous transmettre mes directives. Elle sera mes yeux et mes oreilles. Chaque décision que nous prendrons passera par elle. Mademoiselle Toussignant sera responsable des opérations. Un phénomène de grande ampleur est en train de se produire. Ce que nous attendons de vous tous, c'est de découvrir de quoi il s'agit… avant qu'il ne soit trop tard, conclut Delavenne d'un ton grave. Merci de votre attention. Je vais vous laisser faire connaissance et je vous souhaite bonne chance, ajouta-t-il en se retirant.

Alors que les autres recrues se levaient de leurs sièges, Alves se dirigea directement vers Niamh et planta son regard dans le sien.

-Alors, vous restez ?

-Ouais, marmonna la jeune fille en détournant la tête pour ne plus le voir.

-Vous feriez mieux de leur dire, alors, fit-il en désignant les autres du menton.

Niamh soupira, mais elle comprenait la nécessité de partager l'information avec les autres. A un moment ou à un autre, elle devrait se transformer dans le feu de l'action, et il vaudrait mieux que les autres soient au courant. Ils auraient moins peur et ne devraient pas essayer de lui tirer dessus en la voyant… Alors que tout le monde s'apprêtait à sortir, elle les arrêta. Alves, lui quitta la pièce à la suite de Delavenne. Les autres la regardèrent bizarrement, comme s'ils ne comprenaient pas ce que foutait une ado dans leur équipe, d'une part, et d'autre part pourquoi elle tenait à prendre la parole.

-Ok, puisqu'il semblerait que son chantage ait fonctionné, je vais rester dans l'équipe, commença Niamh.

Mitch soupira, agacé.

-Formidable, comme si ça présentait une importance quelconque, marmonna-t-il, prêt à repartir.

Niamh ferma les yeux, contenant son tour une vague d'agacement.

-Et par conséquent, il y a quelque chose que vous devez savoir à mon sujet.

Elle se tut, rassemblant son courage. Ce n'était pas rien de balancer une telle information à une bande d'inconnus. D'autant que là, pour le moment, les adultes la regardaient comme une ado qui essayait de se faire remarquer pour remédier à son manque d'attention. C'était un des « effets secondaires » de son statut de métamorphe. Du moins du côté des loups, parce que de ce qu'elle avait compris, les Berserkers ne vivaient pas bien plus longtemps que les humains. Ainsi, les métamorphes vieillissaient en conséquence beaucoup moins vite. En revanche, du côté loup qu'elle tenait de sa mère, elle avait noté que plusieurs membres de la meute, généralement les conseillers et guérisseurs, avaient atteint l'âge vénérable de deux-cents à trois-cents ans. La légende racontait même, chez les louveteaux, qu'un jour, ils avaient eu un alpha âgé de mille ans, mais ça, elle n'y croyait pas. En somme, ils voyaient une adolescente de dix-sept ans essayer d'attirer l'attention sur elle, alors que sa première transformation, survenue justement l'année de ses dix-sept ans, remontait déjà à trois ans. Elle était aussi adulte qu'eux, selon leurs critères.

-Vas-y, ne t'inquiète pas, la rassura Jamie avec un sourire, de loin la plus compréhensive et maternelle des cinq.

Niamh la remercia d'un signe de tête, et reprit.

-Si Alves m'a amenée ici, c'est parce qu'il pense que mon… talent spécial… pourrait être utile. Et maintenant, je me rends compte qu'effectivement, ça pourrait nous sauver la vie de temps en temps. –Elle prit une profonde inspiration, après tout, c'était quand même son plus grand secret, qu'elle s'apprêtait à balancer à de parfaits inconnus– Je n'appartiens pas à l'espèce humaine, mais à celle des Métamorphes. Et je suis moi-même une hybride entre deux sous-espèces, mais vous pouvez simplement retenir que je suis… une sorte de loup-garou.

Voilà. Elle était maintenant passible de mort au sein de la meute. Révéler le secret à un humain était déjà un affront intolérable à la face de l'alpha de sa meute, mais également de l'espèce toute entière. Révéler le secret à un groupe d'humains était encore pire. Si jamais elle remettait les pieds sur le territoire de son père, elle n'en ressortirait pas vivante.

Un silence assourdissant pesait entre les six recrues de Delavenne. Jamie et Jackson étaient comme assommés, Chloé regardait ailleurs, manifestement gênée pour Niamh, Abraham la regardait droit dans les yeux, indécis, et Mitch…

-Ha ! éclata-t-il d'un rire goguenard. Tu te fous de ma gueule ? Et moi, je suis la Reine d'Angleterre. Non mais sérieusement, à quel moment vous avez jugé utile de recruter le fils d'un savant fou et une gamine perturbée ? demanda-t-il agressivement à Chloé, qui lui fit signe qu'elle n'y était pour rien.

 _Gamine perturbée ?_ Niamh grogna à cette mention. Elle avait une fierté assez encombrante quand on en venait à son espèce, et ne supportait pas les insultes racistes. Ses yeux virèrent au doré et ses crocs s'allongèrent sensiblement, mais Mitch lui tournait le dos et ne remarqua donc rien. Personne, d'ailleurs, n'avait rien remarqué, trop occupés qu'ils étaient à suivre le regard de Mitch en direction de la porte par laquelle étaient sortis Alves et Delavenne.

-Sinon, avec une démonstration, peut-être que notre ami sceptique ici présent se calmerait ? suggéra Abraham dans une tentative d'apaisement.

-Hors de question, répliqua Niamh en secouant vivement la tête. C'est trop dangereux. N'importe qui pourrait débarquer et me voir, d'une part, et comme c'est un secret jalousement gardé, il est hors de question qu'encore plus de personnes l'apprennent, et d'autre part, c'est dangereux. La dernière fois que je me suis transformée, je me suis sentie bizarre, beaucoup plus agressive que d'ordinaire, à la limite de perdre la raison. C'était comme une compulsion qui cinglait mes veines comme de l'adrénaline, presque aussi forte. Je ne prendrai pas le risque de vous tuer et de compromettre cette intéressante mission, conclut-elle.

Dans leurs yeux, elle ne lut aucune foi. Pas un ne la croyait. Mitch leva les yeux aux ciel, et les autres fuyaient son regard. Bah, elle n'en avait rien à foutre. Qu'ils continuent à ne pas la croire, mais quand elle devrait se transformer – elle ne doutait pas une seconde que cela devrait arriver à un moment – ils seraient bien forcés de la croire. Mais pour le moment, aucun n'avait l'air très emballé à l'idée de devoir trimballer à travers le globe une ado aussi frappadingue que le père de Jackson. Seul Abraham paraissait plus enclin à lui accorder le bénéfice du doute, mais elle ne le remarqua pas, trop occupée à suivre Chloé qui était sortie de la salle.


	3. Chapter 3 : Change of plans : Mississipi

**Hello, here's the next chapter, hope you'll like it :)**

 **From this point, I have no more advance, I posted all my pre-written chapters and will have to write others, so I really hope some people enjoy this story (even a little), because even if I love writing, I think it's better when others like the stories too :)**

 **Well, I stop talking and I let you read :3**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 1**

 ** _Tokyo, international airport of Haneda_**.

Chloé had slipped away to purchase airline tickets to Beijing a half hour ago, Jackson and Abraham were gone to buy hot drinks, and Mitch and Jamie, sat next to Niamh, were thinking about the possible causes to the aggressive behavior of the animals. The girl, for her part, was looking at the passers-by, smelling the odours, curious and in a bad mood, as usual, because her and the crowd were like chalk and cheese. She despised these swarming people, like hurried thronging insects, walking on each other.

She was also listening to conversations all around the hall, caught Jackson and Abraham's and chuckled alone when the first one mentioned Mitch. "I wouldn't ask to that guy the directions to the men's room" he said. The point is, they actually started their relationship on a really bad step, or most likely, Mitch sabotaged it from the beginning, making any change hard. On the other hand she agreed with Jackson, even if she identified herself in the misanthropy of the vet. Speaking of, she was pretty upset to look like a human so much. She tried to reverse the reflection, thinking that it may be Mitch who looked like a wolf, or a Berserker, but this thought was unbearable to her, and made her teeth grit even more than the idea _she_ could resemble to a human.

She turned to the vet and the journalist, to check where they were in their brainstorming, and change her mind from her previous thoughts. From what she had understood, chatting with others while they went to the airport, Chloé was from french external intel (DGSE), Jackson and Abraham were organizers of safaris in Africa, and knew a lot about animals, Mitch was the grumpy vet who didn't like people, and Jamie was the obsessional one, stuck on Reiden Global. Besides…

Jamie, seeing that Mitch dropped his pencil after scribbling the animals symptoms and left the "causes" column empty, grabbed it and wrote in capital letters "Reiden Global" in it. Niamh grinned, and kept her from sneering in a mocking way. After all, she wasn't well placed to make fun of her : noone believed her when she told them she wasn't human.

"Can we go home, now ?" Jamie said, both satisfied and irritated.

"See, this is the problemn with obsession. No room at all for the happy little grey areas", sighed wearily Mitch.

"The world has plenty of little grey areas, Mitch. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the legalization of marijuana, Taylor Swift move from country to pop…"

That last sentence came out of nowhere so that Niamh cocked her head to them to take part in their conversation.

"How could you be… let's say reasonnably sure that Reiden Global is behind all of this ?"

Jamie looked delighted that finally someone seemed to believe her and so she started to talk very eagerly.

"Reiden Global is everywhere in the world. When we were in L.A, the lions were fed and treated with Reiden products, but not only. Cats also behaved strangely. They gathered themselves in some sort of… pack, and we called the animal control and told them that three dozens of cats were sitting on a tree branch, a few meters from a school which was supposed to host children the day after, exposing hundreds of kids to the cats. And after I hung up, the cats scattered. I also inquired about the other attacks, of bears and dogs. The dogs were easier to link to Reiden because the company produce treats for pets, dietary complements, pharmaceuticals, wormers, etc… The bears, on the other hand, may have eaten preys contaminated with plants treated with Reiden pesticides, or they may have searched trash with thrown Reiden products, like vegetables, GMO fruits, or even…

She looked like she could soliloquize for hours, but Niamh had no intention in stopping her. If she was speaking the truth, if it really was Reiden causing all these attacks, even involuntarily, then it could explain why she had this strange and aggressive behavior herself. All the fruits and vegetables she consumed were treated with Reiden pesticides, just as the meat she ate in completely absurd quantities was originally an animal, fed with grain from fields sprayed with pesticides from Reiden Products. If the company was responsible, if anything was wrong with them, causing the incoherent behaviors, so she was also affected by the same… disease ? Affliction ? Thing ? She was about to interrupt Jamie and ask more specific questions, her interest definitely piqued, but Mitch stopped them both.

"All right, if Delavenne is right, if what he's saying is true... and I'm not saying that it is... But if, then this goes way beyond what we saw with the lions in L.A."

 _Yeah, tell me about it, doc_ , Niamh thought aside, the image of packs of werewolves attacking human villages occulting anything else in her mind.

"What if the animals that led the attacks in China, Europe, Africa were all infected with the same thing ? This could be the beginning of a worldwide event."

"I'm pretty sure there's a reason they're called Reiden Global. They have their tentacles in everything, from pesticides to genetically-modified crop seeds. It's a one-stop shop for the animal Apocalypse", Jamie added with conviction.

The atmosphere weighed down by all these conjunctures suddenly loosened when a low and comforting voice sounded.

"Coffee ?" Abraham asked by bringing them hot drinks.

"Ah, thank you ! You read my mind !" the journalist rewarded him by grabbing her steaming goblet.

"And for you, I took a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows", completed Abraham, handing Niamh another cup.

A delicious scent of cocoa escaped from the gobelet, bewitching the young girl's senses, who thanked him warmly. She then swallowed a smoldering gulp of the tasty beverage. She winced when the heat burnt her throat, but she didn't care, she had always loved to drink a first gulp, whatever the temperature was. It was stupid, it always scalded her taste buds, but the extraordinary healing faculties of the metamorphs, and most especially Berserkers' would help her to overcome the pain and the wound in a few hours.

"There you go", Jackson said, handing his coffee to Mitch with a voice he tried to make soft.

Mitch thanked him distractedly with a hardly polite "thank you", and blowed on it to cool it, as normal people do, those who care about their tongue. Even if she only gave a mixed interest in relations between humans, Richard being an exception, Niamh watched carefully the tensed exchanges of glances between Jackson, Abraham and Jamie. The tension bristled her neck, so she decided to catch Jamie's attention to resume to their conversation and apease the tension she handled so bad because it pushed her animal side to stand out.

"So, you were saying that cat too behaved weirdly, and that they seemed to understand human language ?"

"Hum…" spluttered Jamie regrettfully turning her back to the three men. "Yes, well, without jumping to conclusions, they indeed ran away _after_ I called the animal control."

Next to them, Jackson was visibly trying really hard to overcome the antipathy Mitch inspired him.

"Does any of this make sense to you ?" he finally let out, showing the vet a large tablet which he was scrolling snapshots of animal sketches with distorted, dilated pupils.

Mitch took the tablet and began to scroll the images with a weary look on his face.

"Interesting penmanship. Who wrote this, a seven-year-old, on a roller-coster ?" he scoffed without any tact, true to himself.

"My father", Jackson immediately retorted.

Awkward. Niamh resumed to her conversation again, hoping she'll manage to keep her away from the arguing long enough for the men to calm down and chat calmly.

"And, about the lions, what do you mean by 'they communicated remotely' ?" Niamh asked, mixing the necessity of a diversion and the real and intense curiosty she felt.

"Well… when we slept the lion cub, and he woke up way too soon, he called to his congeners when we started the tests. Everywhere through the zoo, the big cats were angry, they circled in their cages, roaring. Unless that remote communication, by any means whatsoever, it was impossible that the adults knew their cub had just been taken blood."

While the girls were chatting, Mitch was obviously making superhuman efforts to demonstrate sociability and try to look more friendly, answering Jackson's question. He mentioned scientific names of a few animals that didn't evoke anything to Niamh until he translated them : _panthera pardus_ , it was leopards.

"Leopards ? You have any idea why leopards would be so important to your father ?" Abraham asked to his friend.

Despite her efforts, Niamh couldn't stay focused on her discussion with Jamie, sensing that now the vet and the zoologist had managed to overcome their antipathy, their talks will be more constructive, and so more interesting.

Jackson barely answered Abraham he had no idea why his father would have made research on leopards when Chloé came back to them with a preoccupied look.

"Guys, change of plans. We're going to Mississippi", she announced baldly to the new recruits.

"Mississippi ? What happened to Beijing ?" Jackson raised, expressing the majority thought.

"There's been a prison fire at Biloxi Penitentiary. It appears that no one survived, not guards, not prisonners, no one", Chloé replied with an expressive look.

Niamh frowned. When the hell did prison fires became their jurisdiction ?

"Prison fire ? What does that have to do with us ?" Jamie asked, as taken aback as she was.

"Because at the time of the fire, the prison was under attack. By wolves", Chloé finished, snucking a look at Niamh.

The young metamorph immediately reacted and stood up from her chair, and almost toppled her chocolate on her knees. It was a bit extreme as a reaction, to the others' eyes, but to hers, who spent the majority of her life with werewolves, and sometimes with genuine wolves, it was different. She knew that wolves didn't act like that. She saw in the others' eyes that they found her behavior weird and excessive : it was just wolves. Ok, wolves that already killed humans, but only wolves, not enough to jump of her chair like she did.

"Wolves don't do that", she said categorically. "They don't attack humans, even in woods. They fear the humans. It's impossible".

"Yet", tempered Chloé, "It has happened. That's why we must go, see if this attack is linked to the others".

While the others stood too and took their luggage, Niamh lift without any effort her heavy bag and prepared to close the march, as her habit of solitary, and so she could hear Jamie mumble and vituperate against Reiden Global and the likely exposition, according to her, of the wolves to contaminated preys by their products.

By watching her new fellows preparing for the flight, Niamh was getting worried. Wolves would never attack humans, and even less a fortified place like a prison. Maybe it was a revengeful pack of metamorphs ? She had heard of at least seven packs in North America, from four to fifty individuals, when she still lived with her pack. But if it was a pack of metamorphs, why did they attack people ? Or maybe it was an ordinary pack of wolves, afflicted by the same disease than the other crazy animals…

She tought back to the dogs that attacked her and Richard. They were supposed to be domestic animals, familiars to humans and normally weren't supposed to be hostile towards them, and yet, they attacked with the intention to harm, even to kill… In spite of this, and still deeply absorbed by her dark thoughts, Niamh followed the lead, her bag containing all her belongings on her back, closing the march.

* * *

 **Salut, voilà le prochain chapitre, j'espère que vous l'apprécierez :)**

 **A partir de là, je n'ai plus d'avance, j'ai posté tous mes chapitres pré-écrits, et du coup je vais devoir écrire les autres, alors j'espère que des gens aiment cette histoire (même juste un peu), parce que même si j'aime écrire, je trouve que c'est mieux quand d'autres personnes apprécient aussi les récits :)**

 **Bon, j'arrête de discutailler, et je vous laisse lire :3**

* * *

 **CHAPITRE 3**

 ** _Tokyo, aéroport international de Haneda_**.

Chloé s'était éclipsée pour acheter des billets pour Pékin il y avait maintenant une bonne demi-heure, Jackson et Abraham étaient partis acheter des boissons chaudes, et Mitch et Jamie, assis à côté de Niamh, réfléchissaient aux possibles causes du comportement agressif des animaux. La jeune fille, elle, regardait les gens, humait les odeurs, curieuse et de mauvaise humeur, comme toujours, parce que la foule et elle, ça faisait deux. Elle détestait ce grouillement de gens, comme autant d'insectes pressés qui se marchaient les uns sur les autres.

Elle écoutait aussi les conversations un peu partout, accrocha momentanément celle de Jackson et Abraham et rit toute seule quand le premier mentionna Mitch dans la discussion. « Ce gars-là, je lui demanderais même pas de m'indiquer le chemin des toilettes », disait-il. Il était vrai qu'ils avaient vraiment entamé leur relation du mauvais pied, ces deux-là, ou plutôt, Mitch l'avait sabotée dès le départ, rendant difficile tout rattrapage. D'un autre côté, elle rejoignait le point de vue de Jackson, même si elle se reconnaissait plutôt dans la misanthropie du vétérinaire. D'ailleurs à ce propos, cela l'énervait proprement de ressembler autant à un humain. Elle tenta de retourner le rapport, se disant que peut-être c'était Mitch qui ressemblait à un loup, ou un Berserker, mais cette pensée lui hérissa la nuque et fit grincer des dents encore plus que l'idée qu' _elle_ ressemblât à un humain.

Elle se tourna vers le vétérinaire et la journalistes, pour voir où en était leur brainstorming et se sortir de la tête ses pensées précédentes. De ce qu'elle avait compris en discutant rapidement avec les autres en descendant à l'aéroport avec eux, Chloé appartenait aux renseignements extérieurs français, Jackson et Abraham organisaient des safaris en Afrique et s'y connaissaient pas mal en animaux, Mitch était le véto grincheux qui n'aimait pas les gens, et Jamie l'obsessionnelle de service qui faisait sa fixette sur l'entreprise Reiden Global. D'ailleurs…

Jamie, voyant que Mitch posait son crayon après avoir griffonné les symptômes des animaux et laissé vide la colonne des causes, s'en empara et écrit en lettres capitales les mots « Reiden Global ». Niamh sourit, et retint son ricanement moqueur. Après tout, elle était bien mal placée pour se foutre de sa gueule : personne ne la croyait non plus quand elle disait qu'elle n'était pas humaine.

-On peut rentrer chez nous, maintenant ? fit Jamie d'un air à la fois satisfait et agacé.

-Ah… C'est ça le problème avec les obsessions, elles ne laissent pas de place à l'espoir que les choses puissent s'arranger, soupira Mitch avec lassitude.

-Le monde est plein de situations qui ne lissent pas trop de place à l'espoir, Mitch. Le conflit qui oppose l'Israël à la Palestine, la légalisation de la marijuana, le fait que Taylor Swift se soit mise à faire de la pop…

Cette dernière constatation sortait tellement de nulle part que Niamh releva la tête vers eux pour s'intéresser à la conversation.

-Comment vous pouvez être… disons raisonnablement sûrs que ce soit Reiden Global qui soit derrière tout ça ?

Jamie avait l'air ravi que quelqu'un semble la croire et sauta à pieds joints dans le piège.

-Reiden Global est partout dans le monde. Quand on était à L.A, les lions étaient nourris et soignés avec des produits Reiden, mais pas seulement. Les chats aussi se sont comportés bizarrement. Ils se sont rassemblés en… en une sorte de meute, et quand on a prévenu les services vétérinaires qu'une cinquantaine de chats était perchée dans un arbre à côté d'un centre aéré qui devait ouvrir le lendemain, exposant des centaines de gosses, ils se sont dispersés. Je me suis renseignée à propos de ces autres attaques aussi, celle des chiens et des ours. Les chiens sont les plus faciles à relier à Reiden puisque l'entreprise produit des croquettes pour animaux, des compléments alimentaires, des médicaments, des vermifuges, etc. Les ours, en revanche, peuvent avoir été exposés à des proies qui auraient mangé des plantes traités avec les pesticides de Reiden, ou ils peuvent avoir fouillé des poubelles contenant des restes de produits Reiden, comme des légumes ou des fruits OGM, ou encore…

Elle paraissait partie pour monologuer des heures, mais Niamh n'avait aucune intention de l'interrompre. Si elle disait vrai, si c'était bien Reiden qui était la cause de toutes ces attaques, même involontairement, alors cela pouvait expliquer pourquoi elle-même avait ce comportement agressif. Tous les fruits et légumes qu'elle consommait étaient traités avec des pesticides Reiden, de même que la viande qu'elle consommait en quantités absurdes était à l'origine un animal nourri au grain issu de champs arrosés de pesticides Reiden. Si l'entreprise était bien responsable, si quelque chose chez eux causait ces comportements incohérent, alors elle était touchée par la même… maladie ? Affection ? Chose ? Elle s'apprêtait à interrompre Jamie pour poser des questions plus pointues, son intérêt définitivement piqué, mais Mitch les arrêta toutes les deux.

-Oh, c'est bon ! Si Delavenne était dans le vrai, si jamais il avait raison… Je ne dis pas que ce soit le cas, mais _si jamais_ , alors tout ça dépasse largement l'histoire des lions de LA.

 _Ouais, je te le fais pas dire, doc_ , pensa Niamh en aparté, l'image des meutes de loups-garous attaquant des villages humains occultant tout le reste dans son esprit.

-Si ces animaux qui ont attaqué des gens en Chine, en Europe et en Afrique étaient tous atteints du même syndrome, ce ne serait que le début d'une catastrophe mondiale.

-Ils ne s'appellent pas Reiden Global pour rien. Ils sont dans tous les domaines, des pesticides aux graines génétiquement modifiées, tout pour préparer l'apocalypse du règne animal, renchérit Jamie avec conviction.

L'atmosphère alourdie par toutes ces conjectures apocalyptiques se détendit brusquement lorsqu'une grosse voix rassurante retentit.

-Un café ? demanda Abraham en leur apportant les boissons chaudes.

-Oh ! Merci, vous avez lu dans mes pensées ! le gratifia Jamie en s'emparant de sa son gobelet en carton fumant.

-Et pour toi, j'ai pris un chocolat chaud avec supplément chamallows, compléta Abraham en tendant un autre gobelet à Niamh.

Un délicieux parfum de cacao s'échappait du verre, ensorcelant les sens de la jeune fille, qui remercia chaleureusement le grand Noir et avala immédiatement une gorgée brûlante du délicieux breuvage. Elle grimaça quand la chaleur lui incendia la gorge, mais elle n'en avait que faire, elle avait toujours aimé boire une première gorgée dès qu'elle recevait sa tasse, son bol ou son verre, quelle que soit la température. C'était stupide, ça lui cramait les papilles, mais les extraordinaires facultés de régénération des métamorphes, et plus particulièrement des Berserkers l'aidaient à surmonter la douleur et la blessure en quelques heures.

-Tenez, fit Jackson en tendant son café à Mitch d'une voix qu'il essayait de rendre détendue.

Mitch le remercia distraitement d'un « merci » à peine poli, et souffla dessus pour le refroidir, comme le faisaient les gens normaux qui tenaient à leur langue. Même si elle n'accordait qu'un intérêt mitigé aux relations que les humains entretenaient entre eux, Richard étant une exception, Niamh observa attentivement les échanges tendus de regards entre Jackson, Abraham et Jamie. La tension lui hérissait la nuque, aussi elle décida d'attirer l'attention de Jamie pour reprendre leur conversation et apaiser une partie de cette tension qu'elle supportait si mal car elle poussait son côté animal à ressortir.

-Donc vous disiez que les chats aussi s'étaient comportés bizarrement, et qu'ils semblaient comprendre le langage humain ?

-Euh… bredouilla Jamie en se détournant comme à regret des trois hommes. Oui, enfin sans sauter à des conclusions hâtives, ils se sont effectivement enfuis _après_ que j'ai appelé les services vétérinaires.

A côté d'elles, Jackson faisait vraisemblablement un effort considérable pour surmonter l'antipathie que lui inspirait Mitch.

-Est-ce que ces documents vous parlent ? finit-il par lâcher en lui montrant une large tablette sur laquelle il faisait défiler des clichés de croquis et d'animaux aux pupilles déformées, comme dilatées.

Mitch attrapa la tablette et commença à faire passer les images d'un air las.

-Joli coup de crayon, qui a dessiné ça ? Un enfant de sept ans, sur des montagnes russes ? persifla-t-il sans aucun tact, fidèle à lui-même.

-Mon père, rétorqua immédiatement Jackson.

Malaise. Niamh reprit la discussion qu'elle avait avec Jamie, espérant réussir à la tenir éloignée de la conversation suffisamment longtemps pour les autres aient le temps de se calmer et de discuter calmement.

-Et les lions, qu'est-ce que vous vouliez dire par « ils communiquaient à distance » ? s'enquit-elle, mêlant à la nécessité de faire diversion la réelle et intense curiosité qu'elle ressentait.

-Eh bien… quand on a endormi le lionceau, et qu'il s'est réveillé prématurément, il a appelé ses congénères quand on a effectué les tests. Partout à travers le zoo, les fauves étaient énervés, tournaient en rond dans leurs cages en feulant et rugissant. A moins de communication à distance, par quelque moyen que ce soit, il était impossible que les adultes sachent que le lionceau venait de se faire prendre du sang.

En parallèle, Mitch faisait vraisemblablement des efforts surhumains pour faire preuve de sociabilité et essayer d'avoir l'air plus sympa en répondant plus gentiment à la question de Jackson. Il évoqua quelques noms scientifiques de bestiaux qui n'évoquèrent rien à Niamh jusqu'à ce qu'il traduise : _panthera pardus_ , c'était des léopards.

-Des léopards ? Tu sais pourquoi ton père a pu s'intéresser aux léopards ? demanda Abraham à son ami.

Malgré ses efforts, Niamh ne parvint pas à rester focalisée sur la discussion avec Jamie, pressentant que maintenant que le zoologue et le véto avaient réussi à surmonter une partie de leur antipathie, leurs échanges seraient plus constructifs, et donc plus intéressants.

A peine Jackson eut-il répondu à Abraham qu'il n'avait aucune idée de la raison pour laquelle son père aurait fait des recherches sur des léopards que Chloé revenait vers eux avec un air préoccupé.

-Changement de programme, on va dans le Mississipi, annonça-t-elle abruptement aux autres recrues.

-Mais… pourquoi on va plus à Pékin ? souleva Jackson, traduisant la pensée majoritaire.

-Un violent incendie à ravagé la prison de Biloxi, il n'y aurait plus un seul survivant, aucun gardien ni prisonnier, personne, répliqua Chloé avec un regard expressif.

Niamh fronça les sourcils. A quel moment c'était de leur juridiction, les prisons et les incendies ?

-Mais en quoi cette prison nous concerne ? demanda Jamie aussi interloquée qu'elle.

-Quand le feu s'est déclaré, la prison venait d'être prise d'assaut. Par des loups, acheva-t-elle en jetant un regard furtif à Niamh.

Celle-ci réagit immédiatement et se leva de sa chaise, manquant de renverser son chocolat sur ses genoux. C'était un peu extrême comme réaction, aux yeux des autres, mais pour elle, qui avait passé l'immense majorité de sa vie au contact de loups-garous et parfois de véritables loups, c'était différent. Elle savait que ces animaux n'agissaient pas ainsi. Elle voyait dans les yeux des autres qu'ils trouvaient son comportement excessif : c'étaient juste des loups, d'accord, des loups tueurs d'hommes, mais juste des loups, pas de quoi bondir de sa chaise comme elle l'avait fait.

-Les loups ne font pas ça, lâcha-t-elle d'un ton catégorique. Ils n'attaquent pas les humains, même dans les bois. Ils ont peur de l'Homme. C'est impossible.

-Pourtant, tempéra Chloé, c'est bien ce qui est arrivé. C'est pour ça qu'on doit y aller, voir si cette attaque est liée aux autres.

Alors que les autres se levaient et attrapaient leurs affaires, Niamh souleva sans effort son lourd paquetage et se prépara à fermer la marche, comme à son habitude de solitaire, et put entendre Jamie marmonner dans sa barbe et vitupérer après Reiden Global et la probable exposition, selon elle, des loups à des proies contaminées par leurs produits.

En regardant ses nouveaux camarades se préparer pour leur vol, Niamh s'inquiétait. Des loups n'attaqueraient pas des humains, et encore moins une place fortifiée comme une prison. Peut-être était-ce une meute de métamorphes vindicatifs ? Elle avait entendu parler d'au moins sept meutes en Amérique du Nord, allant de quatre à cinquante individus, quand elle vivait encore avec la sienne. Mais dans ce cas-là, pourquoi avaient-ils attaqué des gens ? Ou alors, c'étaient peut-être bien des loups normaux, atteints du même syndrome que les autres animaux fous…

Elle repensa aux chiens qui les avaient attaqués, elle et Richard. Ils étaient censés être des animaux domestiques, familiers de l'Homme et normalement pas hostiles envers celui-ci, et pourtant, ils avaient attaqué avec l'intention de blesser, voire de tuer… De dépit, et toujours plongé dans de profondes et sombres pensées, Niamh emboîta le pas aux autres, son sac contenant toutes ses possessions sur le dos, en queue de file.


	4. Chapter 4 : Prepare for the hunt

**Sorry for the wait u_u**

 **To be forgiven, here's a looong one, I hope you'll like it :)**

 **I also improved my translation speed, but I'm still not very confident of the quality, so please, leave a comment/review/whatever it is to help me improve my english :)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 4**

 ** _Regional airport of Biloxi, Mississippi._**

The group got off of the plane, took back their luggage quickly, as they were all eager to come to the point of that prison thing, and stopped by the cars they rented. The team divided in a circle to determine each one's role for day coming. It was about optimizing as much as possible everyone's skills. Chloé took a step forward and began to speak, giving her instructions. While coming, they had decided to separate themsevles into two groups : one to visit the prison, and the other going to wolf hunt.

"Jackson, we'll take the sedan. You guys, take the SUV", she said quickly, not letting anyone contest her orders. "You shall need the extra room. Niamh, you'll go with them."

"I shall ?" Mitch grumbled in a bad mood.

"Yes", Chloé confirmed with aplomb, planting her gaze in his.

Niamh nodded and nicely loaded her bag in the back of the SUV, while Jackson was wagging his head and asking for more info.

"Wait, why are we taking two cars ?"

"Uh, you, Jamie and I will be going to the prison. A French national was being held there. We are representatives from the French embassy coming to discuss dealing with his remains."

"French embassy ?" Jamie made note. "You're DGSE, right ? French FBI ? Why the false credentials ?"

Chloé waved her hands before her in denegation.

"Because from this moment on, we have no agency, no government affiliation. We're on our own."

At these words, Niamh felt relieved. Alves knew about her and her kind, and she could guess that so did Delavane, but if they were the only ones, it would mean that noone else knew the truth about her, and it was just fine like that. On the other hand, if they really had to deal with a world pandemic, being on their own could only make their mission harder...

"What about Delavane ?" Abraham said.

"Yes, Delavane is funding our operation. But beyond that, we're… how do you say _confidentiel_ … ?"

Chloé rummaged in her handbag, thinking to a way to express her thoughts.

"Off… off the books", the analyst concluded in an eloquent tone.

After remaining silent for a moment, Abraham spoke again.

"Should I presume the reason Mitch needs extra room is because of me ? If I wasn't such a nice guy, I might be offended", he teased Chloé as she smiled.

Indeed, he took some place, you could almost put two like Jamie between his shoulders, but he seemed more muscular than purely fat, giving him the look of a big teddy and a cheerful good-nature look. Niamh couldn't help herself but smile, self-mockery was one of her favourite form of humor, and she really liked people able to use it.

"No. I need you two to trap a wolf", Chloé let out all naturally.

Niamh instantely reacted. The smile dropped of her face and she couldn't help but let out an aggressive growl.

"There's no way we kill a wolf, you hear me ?" she threatened in a tone that did not call for a reply.

First destabilized by the sudden rage the girl showed, the french woman then reassured her quickly.

"Don't worry, we're not gonna kill it, just bring one with us to the hotel. To tell the truth, I was counting on you. If Alves told us the truth, you know how to deal with these animals, so I was hoping you could soften one."

Niamh seemed to deflate, as she softened the curve of her back and downed her shoulders, leaving behind her aggressive and stocky posture for a more civil attitude.

"I expect studying a wolf will provide answers as to what may have caused the pack…"

"Wait, why don't I just go with Abraham ?" Jackson intervened.

With no surprise, Mitch looked delighted about the idea of getting rid of the "wolf capture" drudgery, especially since he precised that he had no idea of how to do that.

"Genius recommendation. I second that", Mitch said, raising a finger as if he was couting the points.

"No, no, no. I need you with at the prison", Chloé retorted in a dry tone. "It was ground zero for the wolf attack."

"And why not Niamh's expertise, huh ? If you trust her to catch a wild animal, then why not also to study the tracks at the prison ?"

Chloé sighed while the girl crossed her arms, leaning against the SUV, patiently waiting for the conflict to solve itself. None of these people belonged to her pack, and it seemed quite unlikely to her that it would come any day, so she didn't want to get more involved in their arguments. When it would come to touch her personnaly, she'll defend herself, but for now, she didn't need to.

"She's too young to pretend to be a member of the embassy, even if I tried to pass it off as a student internship. She's barely old enough to get her High School Diploma, it's too young for that kind of work or internship. _You_ will come with me at the prison, end of discussion", she concluded in a firm voice.

After an embarrassing and tense silence, Abraham informed the others that they'll need some material to catch a wild man-killing wolf, and that they could not just go in the forest, hands in their pockets and pray for the wolf to let himself get caught. Chloé recomposed and showed him the exit of the parking.

"Yes, there's a hunting supply store down the highway. And this should cover the cost of purchases", she said, handing Abraham a plump envelope. "Okay ? Let's go."

Said that, she walked away at a quick and dynamic pace, obviously pissed that she had to be so bossy to get a bit of obedience from her team. Jamie and Jackson glared at each other, a bit puzzled by her domineering behavior, but followed her obetiently, after the reporter greeted the vet with a grimace of apprehension that said "the frenchie's not really convenient". The vet stepped next to the tall black man, looking at the three others getting in the second car, as puzzled as the zoologist a second before.

"You know, I… like this Chloé. She's what you would call _peppery_ ", Abraham noticed with an amused smile.

"Yeah, I was never a big fan of peppery", Mitch retorted sarcastically.

Niamh sighed and both her and Abraham stared at him, giving him an accusing look.

"Do you ever stop complaining ?" the girl let out with as much bad mood as Mitch ordinary showed.

He snapped a disillusionnal look back at her, on the edge of contempt, sighed, and then rang the start.

"Come on, we still got to find a wolf and capture it without killing it..."

Mumbling that they better not to harm the animal, Niamh folowed the trail of the two men and got into the SUV. They drove only for two minutes and parked the car behind the store, "Finch and son's hunting supply". In the street, dozens of cars were circulating and spreading a terrible smell of exhaust gaz, taking Niamh to the throat and giving her only one wish : to get into the store as fast as possible. In front of the entrance door, a stuffed bear was on guard, stood up on his hind legs in an aggressive and caricatural posture, just as if to show that the products sold in the shop were 100% reliable. Niamh hid her discomfort as they passed next to the bear, while Mitch and Abraham were discussing about how they could catch the wolf. They pulled out the idea of a trap, but they feared to hurt it and driving it crazy or aggressive. Well… even more aggressive than before.

The three of them finally entered in the store, which a huge number of amateur hunters were roaming in, speaking loudly about the hunt that would take place the day after. Instinctively, Niamh tensed and felt her nape bristle. It was this kind of persons that her species hid from, and it also was generally this kind of humans who died in retaliation when a metamorph was killed in a hunt. With all this tension and sudden hatred within her, she closed herself to the world to keep an eye on nothing else than their objective and not lose sight on it, to avoid any… skid. Once again, she missed at noticing the suspicious look in Abraham's eyes, as he did notice her strange and brutal change of attitude. Mitch, on the other hand, still didn't give a shit about her and kept walking through the groups of people.

"I knew that Americans enjoy hunting. I had no idea it was this popular…" said the tall black man, looking around them.

Mitch called out a man wearing a jacket with the effigy of the store, probably a salesman, and asked for info about why there were so much hunters today.

"The county announced a wolf call, because of what happened at the prison", the salesman answered politely.

Hands buried deep in her pockets, her fists clenched so tight that she scratched her palms with her nails because of her rage, Niamh focused on not to react too much.

"What is it a _wolf call_ ?" Abraham Asked, curious.

"That's when a bunch of men go out into the woods to hunt wolves, armed with beer and high-powered rifles. 'Cause, you know, what goes better together than guns and drinking ?" Mitch scoffed loud enough for the men surrounding them to hear him.

The young metamorph froze. Even her, with her hatred for the hunters and the humans hostiles to the wolves, she knew it wasn't a good idea to say that kind of sentence in that kind of situation. It was almost like shit on the lawn of your ex-convict neighbor and think that the insult would remain unpunished. Absurd. She tensed instinctively, ready to fight if the hunters came for them.

"Do you have any traps or snares ? We are looking to catch a wolf. Catch, not kill", Abraham said, trying to distract the hunters.

"We might have some net guns in the back", the salesman replied, showing them the back of the store before walking away.

Abraham was about to walk away too, take the lead of the group and take them to the shelf the salesman had indicated them, when a hunter stood in front of them. _It's a redneck caricature, just like in the movies_ , Niamh mused, looking at him attently. He was wearing a dirty white t-shirt with unidentified stains on it, an unbuttoned check shirt, and a cap covered his hair with questionable hygiene. Out of curiosity, and even though she knew it was a bad idea, Niamh breathed in discreetly, wondering if the clichés were true and assumed. She narrowed her nostrils immediately, when the smell of the beer made it to her nose. _Damnit, it's just like we were in a series so it was predictable_ , she grumbled for herself.

"You want to catch and not kill ?" he spat at Abraham without any ounce of respect. "What are you gonna do with a rabid wolf ? Gonna take it to dinner and a movie ?"

His joke was pretty lame, but triggered anyway a wave of hilarity among the other hunters, who assembled in a circle around the small team, obviously eager to take their revenge upon their mockery from earlier. With his ordinary disdain, Mitch snapped back at him, his scientific argumentary far superior to the too simple brag of the hunter.

"Those wolves aren't rabid", he assorted, gauging the hunter with contempt. "See, rabid wolves don't travel in the pack. They're ostracized and forced to move alone."

"Rabid or not rabid, it doesn't really matter much. Either way they'll be dead", the man snapped back at the vet.

Niamh clenched her teeth while growling. This, was precisely why she didn't really like the humans, and why she purely hated hunters. Those pompous asses who thought they could slaughter wolves only because they were predators and that, in collective imagination, they were the figure of the Big Bad Wolf ! She grunted, drawing Abraham's discreet attention on her once again, but he forgot it quickly, focused on the idea of avoiding an open fight between Mitch and the hunter. He seemed so confident, with his smug smile… It bristled her neck, and within seconds, she give in to a little anger. She was as tall as him, but with her anger raging within her, she looked more imposing.

"The only rabid animal I see in here is you", she scolded. "If you really wanna kill things, then start with you god damn kids, so you'll stop the proliferation of sick branches in your family tree", she scoffed at him with a such burning hate the hunter took half a step back, more surprised than scared.

It was quite savage as a retort, she knew it, but she didn't care. She never felt close to the humans, and each day passing made her feel how much she was different from them. The wolves, on the other hand, had always appeared as a familiar and friendly species.

Abraham took her by the shoulder with an iron hand and pushed her towards him, also dragging Mitch with him.

"Thank you, sir. Let's go get that net gun, guys…"

Behind them, a threat-heavy silence dropped on the group of hunters as they approached from the shelf mentionned by the salesman.

"Well, when we'll go pay the gun, please, no fight nor war declaration to the hunters, okay ?" Abraham asked, quite anxious about that.

"I had that under control", Mitch protested, weighing a gun from the shelf.

"I don't think so, my friend… And Niamh, you didn't act better. They totally could be waiting for us outside and beat us up or break our legs", he chided her.

The girl didn't answer, still sulky and in a bad mood. She dared them to try such thing… They quickly took their gun and headed to the salesman to buy it, under the gloomy look of the hunters. While Abraham paid, Niamh saw approaching the same redneck as a moment earlier, a determined look on his face. Sighing with annoyance, the girl followed the two adults, hurried to leave to store, but a hand dropped on her shoulder, forcing her to stop.

"Hey, we weren't finished, you and I", he said with an aggressive voice.

 _I don't think so_ , mused Niamh with a grin full of anger and disgust.

She upturned the human's arm and threw him on the ground with a fluid movement before grabbing his t-shirt, her half-transformed nails tearing the fabric under her fingers. She grunted at him, unable to contain herself, even if it was a really strange behavior, and felt like a tingle in her eyes, which meant they went gold.

"If I see you tomorrow, I'll tear off your throat", she hissed at him, who paled vertiginously.

"Excuse me, sir, my friend is… quite irascible", Abraham justified himself as he dragged Niamh outside of the store. "Damn it, Niamh, why the hell did you do that ?" he scolded her.

"I _hate_ hunters. I _hate_ those who kill for sport. It was stronger than me, when he told that he didn't give a shit about the wolves being mad or not, that he'd kill them anyway… I snapped."

Abraham sighed and let her go, motionning her to go back to the car, which she did obediently, while he stayed with Mitch for a moment.

"She's even more techy than you", he teased Mitch.

"You mean she's unstable, yeah", the vet retorted, designating her, and absolutely not aware of the fact that she perfectly heard their conversation.

They eventually got in the SUV and drove to the hotel where Chloé booked two connected rooms. They had arrived before the other group, so they decided to wait for them at the bar of the hotel, chatting to pass time.

"Say, Niamh… You don't have parents to worry about your absence ? It's been two days since you have disappeared from radars, right ?" asked Abraham, while Mitch ordered a third glass of water.

"My mom is dead", dropped the metamorph with a toneless voice, her face impassive as she buried her feelings deep in her heart and refused to let them out.

Abraham bowed his head, troubled and embarrassed to interfere with the girl's past. He was about to apologize, but she didn't let him do.

"My father killed her. He beat her to death when he discovered I wasn't his daughter. He planned on kill me too, but he couldn't resign to do it. Instead of that… he banned me from the pack."

Mitch, though he was especially doubtful about her wolf pack and metamorphism story, seemed affected by her words and adressed her a pained and embarrassed look. Even if he mostly appeared as a gruff person, he was perfectly able of empathy and sympathy.

"I shouldn't have asked, I'm sorry…" Abraham apologized anyway.

"Don't be. You couldn't know. So, to answer your question… no. No parents to worry about my disappearance. My mother rests six feet underground, my father doesn't want to hear about me anymore, and my uncle, the pack leader, made sure that any pack that would shelter me would be punished. I'm on my own, and it's for the best", she concluded, this time she couldn't hide a bitter grimace.

"Well, let's admit that this whole pack story is true…" Abraham postulated under the annoyed look of Mitch. "Yesterday, during the meeting, you talked about two sub-species, and that you'd belonged to both of them. What were you talking about ?"

"God damn it, Abraham, you're not gonna tell me you believe her ?" grunted Mitch with a loud voice, putting down his glass on the counter.

"Anyway, the others are here, we're gonna need to change of subject", Niamh mumbled by getting up from her chair.

Indeed, Chloé, Jamie and Jackson just went through the entrance door and noticed them at the counter. They came to them and invited them to the two rooms they ordered to debrief their day. In the elevator, stuck between the wall and Jackson, Niamh could smell the scent of fire and ashes on him. Even without assisting directly to the fire, and only went to the prison quickly, the odour was sticking to him. It must have been a hell of a barbecue, back there…

They entered their respective rooms, then opened the connected door, so they could talk. According to what they saw at the prison, Chloé, Jamie and Jackson thought that the wolves attacked without a pack leader, but that they found one inside the penitentiary, known as Evan Lee Hartley. As strange as it seems, their behavior towards the human was that of submissive wolves. After listening their summary of what happened to Chloé's group, Abraham stepped forward and told what happened to him and his group.

"We bought a net gun, but… you'll have to take Niamh with you, tomorrow."

"Why ?" Chloé curiously asked.

"It would be better for everyone", the girl simply replied instead of Abraham. "If I go with them to the wolf call, it will end with me murdering someone."

Jackson and Chloé exchanged a puzzled glare, wondering how it was possible to get to a death fight in so little time.

"Both Mitch and Niamh got on the hunters' bad side, but I think that if Niamh crosses path with one of them tomorrow, she will, indeed, end up killing him."

"Ok, fine", Chloé nodded, quite annoyed though. "Tomorrow, Niamh will come with me to the morgue to identify the corpses of the dead prisoners, Abraham and Mitch will go catch the wolf, and Jackson and Jamie will go to the prison to examine potential clues left by the wolves, about their numbers or organization."

The group nodded and then went to bed without anyone to protest. Even though they didn't eat, they were so tired after their plane trip and day adventure that they were too sleepy. The three men backed in their room, and the three women in theirs. Niamh immediately changed herself into her pajamas and slipped under the sheets, before almost instantely fall asleep, exhausted by her ultra-consumer metamorph organism. She was still aware, though, on the edge of her hearing, of Jackson and Abraham chatting in the other room, and of Chloé and Jamie talking about Hartley with a tisane, which smelled so good it blurred her senses, helping her to slip in a deeper sleep.

"She's still sleeping ?" asked Chloé quietly by cocking her head towards Niamh, designating her while she slouched in an armchair.

"Yeah", Jamie sighed. "She didn't move from an inch since she closed her eyes. Okay, so get this. That prisonner, Evan Lee Hartley, our alpha… Upstanding citizen, no criminal background, but then, for apparently no reason at all, he stabbed an entire hunting party to death in the Pearl River Woods. Well, he kinda looks like our anti-hunting activist, at least on the aggressivity aspect…

"When he was apprehended, he said 'all hunters need to die'. Ours is not as extreme, she even had the presence of mind to withdraw from the equation before getting to the murder step", quietly jested the French woman with a smile.

A heavier wave of sleep overwhelmed Niamh as she were listening to their conversation, dragging her into the limbo. It's only around 1 P.M that she woke up, snapped from sleep by footsteps noises, that she identified as Chloé's, soon followed by the door's noise as it opened and closed. She must has been victim of insomnia. Judging there was no danger, and most of all, being too tired to focus on waking up properly, the metamorph slipped again in sleep without a movement.

In the morning, when the timeclock rang, around 7 A.M, she was feeling drowsy, and struggled to get off the arms of Morphee. They waited for the team to be ready to get down in the hotel's restaurant and have a good breakfast. They helped themselves with their favourite food, fully aware that a big day was awaiting for them, but none of them could find their words when they saw how much their Irish recruit could eat.

"What ? Metamorphs have an organism that consumes a lot more food than humans", she justified herself as she poured her third bowl of coffee at the buffet.

None of the members of the team was still easy with her whole metamorph "delirium". Alves had put her in the team, so they kept her, but for now, not only she kept telling them this unbelievable story, but she also complicated her first mission by losing her temper on a hunter. Mitch rolled his eyes to the sky, Chloé ignored the girl, focused on her coffee and croissant, her phone right next to her, Jackson and Jamie looked away, embarrassed, and only Abraham still dared to look at her in the eyes.

After breakfast, they formed groups. Abraham and Mitch took the SUV with the net gun in the trunk, and drove to the forest to catch a wolf. Chloé, Jamie, Jackson and Niamh got in the second car, to the prison, where Chloé dropped Jackson and Jamie, before heading to the morgue immediately after. During the drive, the girl planned on looking outside the car, but the DGSE agent decided otherwise.

"Look, when we'll be at the morgue, you'll watch your temper, okay ? No fight with a wounded hunter at the hospital ?

Niamh grumbled a sullen assent and entrenched herself in silence. Chloé sighed wearily.

"Why are you here ?" she asked then with a rather acid tone, focusing on the road. "I mean, Alves put you in the team while presumably, you're no vet, nor zoologist, nor analyst for intelligence service, nor even shareholder of a large company such as Reiden Global… In short, you don't bring anything to the team. Even Jamie, who, if I got it well, got her place only because Mitch asked for it, can help us, with her talent to make people talk and her skills in investigation."

Niamh sighed too and turned her ice blue gaze at Chloé's.

"If you have enough time with this crisis, question Alves about the reasons that pushed him to force me to get in the team. I remind you that you, just like the others, are free. If _I_ take a wrong step, I'm doomed. And if you insist so much to know what I can offer to the team, wait for us to face a danger… Jackson is a zoologist, Abraham is a safari organizer, Mitch is a vet, Jamie is a reporter, and you are an analyst. Among this cheerful band of brains, I don't see any muscles, except for Abraham. I'll fit in that role."

A long silence divided both of them while the French woman was driving, slightly upset. It wasn't valid answers ! It was just a way to evade the question ! During the rest of the drive, Chloé couldn't get anymore useful information from the metamorph, who stubbornly gave her the same fantasized story about werewolves over and again. Without a word, and in a foul mood, she followed the medical examiner whom she gave an appointment for the identification of the French national, according to her cover of employee of the French embassy.

When they found themselves in front of a hermetic door, leading to the autopsy room and to the drawers where the examiner kept the bodies waiting for their burial, Niamh stopped abruptly. The door perfectly filtered the odours from the other side, she could almost not smell anything of what was awaiting on the other side, her nostrils monopolized by the sanitized scent of the corridor. However, she wasn't very happy about the idea of following Chloé and the M.E behind the door. The man noticed her discomfort, and proposed her to stay outside, to let the adults discuss. Though being reminded she still looked underage riled her up, she was quite relieved to be able to avoid this task. Except that Chloé, still upset against her and determined to make her useful after the fiasco of the day before, decided otherwise.

"No, it's okay. She comes with me", she assured to the M.E, who looked back at her, rather curious. "I must not lose her sight : orders from her internship supervisor."

"Too bad for you", the man whispered to Niamh as she entered behind them in the perfectly white place.

"So now I'm old enough for an internship at the embassy ?" Niamh taunted Chloé in a low voice.

"Silence. Yesterday, I had to make the others obey, and it appeared to be a good excuse, that's all", she retorted with anger, but as quietly as the girl.

Immediately, Niamh decided it was safer for her and her upset stomach that she'd not breathe with her nose but with her mouth. From the little she smelled, she detected a strong scent of chemicals to desinfect the tables and instruments, or to preserve the extracted fleshs of the bodies, and she also picked up a really sticky scent of decomposition. Even if the chemical odours they were breathing were all very strong, she had a sense of smell a lot more sensitive than the humans, and so clearly detected the putrefaction and the smell of scorched corpses. She repressed her nausea and approached to the wall of drawers where the dead awaited in silence.

"First body, he's been badly burnt, but…" the medical examiner began, opening the first drawer. "As you see, his throat has been torn off. We clearly see the marks of the fangs, cutting his jugular."

Chloé frown her nose, disgusted, and Niamh felt a weird and sadistic satisfaction about that. She had insisted for the girl to come with her in the room, fully aware that she didn't have the least desire, and now, she was taking her revenge. The French woman wasn't used to see dead humans or animals, unlike Niamh, who wasn't bothered by the sight but more by the smell, which now was pervading the whole room.

"He's not our national", Chloé quickly said so the M.E could close the drawer.

They took a look at each of the bodies, but Chloé couldn't take the risk to designate one randomly, only to find later that it actually was an American.

"All the bodies are here, miss Toussignant", declared the M.E in a concerned tone. "Are you sure none of them was your French guy ?"

"I didn't recognize him, but maybe he was amongst the scorched bodies, too badly burnt or injured by the wolves to be clearly identified… I'll ask for his dental file at the embassy, I'll come back with more information", she engaged herself and shook his hand as they left the morgue.

Once they were outside, Chloé tried her best to breathe deeply to repress her own nausea, while Niamh was sneezing endlessly, trying by all means to get rid of the smell of death that stuck to her clothes and nostrils.

"So no Hartley, huh ?" she finally let out after another sneeze. "He survived the attack, which would confirm the idea that the wolves might have taken him for their alpha.

"We must go back to the prison, report to Jackson and Jamie about what we found. I hope that Abraham and Mitch fend off better than us…"

Just thinking about the hunters, probably hunting down wolves in the forest right now, Niamh started to growl, immediately forgetting her problem with the death smell on her clothes. She got in the car with Chloé and they drove to the Biloxi Penitentiary. Jackson and Jamie were waiting for them with umbrellas, to protect them from the starting rain, and approched them as they got out of the car to debrief, but only Jackson was really paying attention, whilst the reporter was currently on the phone.

"We saw each body found on the prison yard. No Evan Lee Hartley", Chloé announced with a cold voice.

"Raah, I was hoping I wasn't right", Jackson grumbled in deception.

"Okay, thank you for the information", Jaime said as she hung up her phone and then turned to the three others. "You guys, wait. You're not gonna believe this. But the last person to walk out of the Biloxi Penitentiary alive was the widow of one of our pack leader's victims", she swung at them as if it was the biggest scoop of the century.

"What was she doing there ?" Jackson immediately asked in disbelief.

"Wait a sec, is that it, Hartley is a pack leader, now ?" Niamh intervened, suddenly really nervous.

"We found wolves prints and shoe prints, walking away from the prison. We think that the wolves dug under the fence to help Evan Lee Hartley to escape and then he became their leader", he answered obligingly, turning towards the girl.

Niamh bowed her head and paled vertiginously. If it was what happened, if Hartley was the wolves' leader, then several possibilities opened before her, and none of them pleased her very much…

"Apparently, she met with Hartley", replied Jamie at Jackson's first question.

"Well, you should go track her down. This widow. And talk to her", Chloé ordered, trying to soften her voice to shade her bossiness. "If Jackson is right about him, he may know more about the wolves' aberrant behavior. Maybe he said something to her"

Niamh rushed to get into the car, fearing that they remind her she should stay away from the hunters, and they'd send her to talk to the widow too.

"Okay", nodded Jamie. "Call me when you find Mitch and Abraham. Good luck."

Chloé got in the car too, followed by Jackson, and started the engine.

* * *

 **Aaand, that's all. In the next chapter, return of the Beast, I hope you'll like the way I'm trying to make Niamh not too cheated, as she's still a god damn werewolf.**

* * *

 **Désolée pour l'attente u_u**

 **Pour me faire pardonner, voilà un looong chapitre, j'espère qu'il vous plaira :)**

* * *

 **CHAPITRE 4**

 ** _Aéroport régional de Biloxi, Mississippi_**.

Le groupe descendit de l'avion et récupéra ses bagages rapidement, pressé d'en venir au fait avec cette histoire de prison, et s'arrêta devant les voitures qu'ils avaient louées. Le groupe se répartit en cercle pour déterminer les rôles de chacun pour la journée à venir. Il s'agissait d'optimiser autant que possible les compétences de chacun. Chloé s'avança et prit la parole en donnant ses instructions. En venant, ils avaient décidé de se séparer, un groupe allant visiter la prison, et l'autre allant à la chasse au loup.

-Alors Jackson, on va prendre la voiture, et vous, enchaîna-t-elle en désignant Abraham et Mitch, vous montez dans le SUV, il vous faudra plus de place que nous. Niamh, tu iras avec eux, tu les aideras.

-Ah oui, vraiment ? grommela Mitch avec mauvaise humeur.

-Oui, confirma Chloé avec aplomb en fichant son regard dans le sien.

Niamh acquiesça et chargea son sac à l'arrière du SUV bien sagement, tandis que Jackson hochait la tête et demandait plus d'informations.

-Pourquoi on n'y va pas à deux voitures ?

-Euh, Jamie, vous et moi, on va à la prison, un ressortissant français y était incarcéré. L'ambassade de France nous envoie là-bas pour gérer les modalités du transport de sa dépouille.

-L'ambassade ? fit remarquer Jamie. Vous êtes de la DGSE, c'est un peu comme le FBI, non ? Pourquoi ces fausses excuses ?

Chloé agita les mains devant elle en signe de dénégation.

-A partir de maintenant, on ne dépend d'aucune agence, d'aucun organisme officiel, on est seuls.

A cette mention, Niamh se sentit soulagée. Alves savait pour elle et les siens, et elle devinait que Delavenne aussi, mais s'ils étaient seuls, ça voulait dire que personne d'autre ne connaissait la vérité à son sujet, et c'était pas plus mal. D'un autre côté, s'ils devaient affronter une véritable pandémie mondiale, être complètement livrés à eux-mêmes ne pouvait que les desservir…

-Pourtant il y a Delavenne, fit Abraham.

-Oui, il finance les opérations, mais à part ça… ce qu'on fait…

Chloé farfouilla dans son sac tout en réfléchissant à une manière d'exprimer le fond de sa pensée.

-… ça doit rester confidentiel, termina l'analyste de la DGSE d'un ton éloquent.

Après un instant de silence, Abraham reprit la parole.

-Si Mitch a besoin d'avoir autant de place, c'est parce que c'est moi qui voyage avec lui ? Si j'étais chatouilleux, j'aurais pu mal le prendre, plaisanta-t-il devant l'air amusé de Chloé.

Effectivement, il prenait un peu de place, on pouvait presque en faire rentrer deux comme Jamie entre ses épaules, mais il avait l'air plus musclé que purement gras, lui donnant avant tout un air de nounours et une bonhomie joviale. Niamh ne put se retenir de sourire, l'autodérision était une de ses formes d'humour préférées, et elle appréciait les personnes capables d'en faire preuve.

-Non, tous les trois, vous allez rapporter un loup, lâcha Chloé tout naturellement.

Niamh réagit immédiatement. Son sourire disparut et elle ne put s'empêcher de laisser échapper un grognement agressif.

-Hors de question qu'on abatte un de ces loups, entendu ? menaça-t-elle d'un ton qui n'appelait aucune réplique.

D'abord déstabilisée par la soudaine rage qu'elle percevait émaner de la jeune fille, la française la rassura rapidement.

-Il n'est pas question de le tuer, juste de le ramener. A vrai dire, je comptais sur toi. Si Alves dit vrai, tu sais t'y prendre avec ces animaux, alors j'espérais que tu aiderais à en amadouer un.

Niamh parut dégonfler à mesure qu'elle lissait la courbe de son dos et baissait les épaules, abandonnant sa posture ramassée pour une attitude plus civile.

-J'espère qu'en examinant un loup, on comprendra les raisons qui ont pu inciter la meute à…

-Attendez, pourquoi c'est pas moi qui irais avec Abraham ? s'interposa Jackson.

Sans surprise, Mitch avait l'air ravi de pouvoir se débarrasser de la corvée « capture de loup », d'autant qu'il précisa qu'il n'avait aucune idée de la façon de procéder.

-Excellente recommandation, je suis d'accord avec lui, dit-il en levant un doigt comme pour marquer le point.

-Non, j'ai besoin que vous veniez à la prison, rétorqua aussi sec Chloé. Ça a été le point de départ de l'attaque des loups, j'ai besoin de votre expertise.

-Et pourquoi pas celle de Niamh ? Si vous lui faites confiance pour attraper une bête sauvage, pourquoi pas aussi pour étudier les traces à la prison ?

Chloé soupira, tandis que l'intéressée croisait les bras, appuyée contre le SUV, attendant patiemment que ce conflit se résolve de lui-même. Aucun de ces gens n'appartenait à sa meute, et il lui semblait assez peu probable que cela arrive un jour, aussi elle ne souhaitait pas s'impliquer plus que cela dans leurs disputes internes. Quand cela la toucherait de près, elle se défendrait, mais pour le moment, elle n'en avait pas besoin.

-Elle est trop jeune pour passer pour un membre de l'ambassade, même si j'essayais de la faire passer pour un stage étudiant. Elle a à peine l'âge de passer son bac, c'est trop jeune pour ce genre de travail. C'est vous qui viendrez avec moi, fin de la discussion, l'acheva-t-elle d'un ton sans appel.

Après un petit silence un peu gênant et tendu, Abraham informa les autres qu'ils auraient besoin de matériel pour capturer un loup tueur d'hommes, et qu'ils ne pouvaient pas juste y aller les mains dans les poches et prier pour que l'animal se laisse faire. Chloé se reprit et lui indiqua la sortie du parking.

-Il y a un magasin qui vend des accessoires de chasse plus bas dans la rue. Tenez, ajouta-t-elle en lui confiant une enveloppe rebondie replie d'argent, ça devrait couvrir les frais. On est prêts ? demanda-t-elle après une courte pause. Allons-y.

Et elle s'éloigna d'un pas vif et dynamique, manifestement un brin agacée de devoir être aussi autoritaire pour espérer un peu d'obéissance de la part de son équipe. Jamie et Jackson échangèrent un regard perplexe devant cette autoritarisme, mais la suivirent docilement, après que la journaliste eut salué Mitch avec une grimace d'appréhension du genre « elle est pas commode la frenchie ». Le vétérinaire se plaça à côté du grand Noir, observant les trois autres monter dans la deuxième voiture, l'air aussi perplexe que le zoologue un instant avant.

-C'est marrant, je l'aime bien, cette Chloé. Elle a du caractère, c'est comme… un plat épicé, fit remarquer Abraham avec un sourire amusé.

-Ouais, j'ai jamais été fan des plats épicés, rétorqua Mitch d'un ton sarcastique.

Niamh soupira et rejoignit Abraham dans son regard accusateur.

-Vous arrêtez jamais de râler ? lâcha la jeune fille avec autant de mauvaise humeur qu'en faisait ordinairement preuve Mitch.

Il lui retourna un regard désabusé à la limite du mépris, soupira, et sonna le départ.

-Allez, on doit encore trouver de quoi chopper un loup sans le tuer…

Marmonnant dans sa barbe qu'il y avait intérêt à ce qu'aucun mal ne lui soit fait, Niamh emboîta le pas aux deux hommes et monta dans le SUV. Ils roulèrent à peine deux minutes et garèrent leur voiture dans le parking du magasin, « Finch and son's hunting supply ». Dans la rue, des dizaines de voitures circulent et répandent une épouvantable odeur de gaz d'échappement qui prend Niamh à la gorge, ne lui laissant qu'une envie : atteindre le magasin le plus vite possible. Juste devant l'entrée, un ours empaillé montait la garde, dressé sur ses pattes arrières dans une posture agressive caricaturale, comme pour montrer que les produits vendus dans le magasin étaient fiables à 100%. Niamh dissimula son malaise en passant devant l'ours empaillé pendant que Mitch et Abraham discutent de comment ils pourraient attraper le loup. Ils évoquèrent l'idée de lui tendre un piège, mais craignaient de le blesser et de le rendre fou ou agressif. Enfin… encore plus agressif qu'avant.

Il entrèrent finalement tous les trois dans le magasin, dans lequel se pressait un nombre conséquent de chasseurs amateurs en vestes et casquettes, parlant bruyamment de la battue qui devrait bientôt avoir lieu. Instinctivement, Niamh se tendit et sentit sa nuque se hérisser. C'était de ce genre de personnes que les siens se cachaient, et c'était aussi généralement à leur encontre que les représailles des loups s'exerçaient quand l'un des leurs mourait au cours d'une partie de chasse. Avec toute cette tension et cette subite haine qui émanait d'elle, elle se ferma au monde pour ne plus garder son attention que sur leur objectif et ne pas le perdre de vue, pour éviter de déraper. C'est encore une fois qu'elle manqua de remarquer le regard suspicieux d'Abraham, qui parut remarquer son changement d'attitude assez brutal. Mitch, en revanche, n'en avait encore une fois rien à branler et avançait à travers les grappes de personnes.

-Je sais que dans ce pays ils aimaient chasser… mais je pensais pas qu'ils étaient mordus à ce point, fit remarquer le grand Noir.

Mitch alpagua un homme qui portait une veste à l'effigie du magasin, probablement un vendeur, et s'enquit de la situation, pourquoi il y avait autant de chasseurs aujourd'hui.

-C'est pour éliminer les loups. Le comté veut qu'on s'en débarrasse, répondit obligeamment le vendeur.

Les mains enfoncées dans les poches, poings serrés au point de s'écorcher la paume avec ses ongles dans sa rage, Niamh s'appliqua à ne pas trop réagir.

-Et comment vous allez vous y prendre ? demanda Abraham, curieux.

-Tous les hommes que vous voyez ici vont envahir la forêt, et chasser les loups, armés de puissants fusils et de bouteilles de bière. Parce que ça va très bien ensemble, les armes et la picole, persifla Mitch suffisamment haut pour que les hommes alentours l'entendent.

La jeune métamorphe se figea. Même elle, avec sa haine des chasseurs et des humains hostiles aux loups, savait qu'il ne faisait pas bon prononcer ce genre de phrase dans ce genre de situation. C'était presque comme venir pisser sur le paillasson de son voisin ex-taulard et penser que l'affront resterait impuni. Absurde. Elle se tendit instinctivement, prête à en découdre si jamais les chasseurs s'en prenaient à eux.

-Et… est-ce que vous vendez aussi des pièges, ici ? On voudrait attraper un loup. Juste l'attraper, pas le tuer, reprit Abraham pour essayer de détourner l'attention du vétérinaire indélicat.

-Y'a des pistolets à filet, là-bas, leur fit signe le vendeur en leur montrant le fond du magasin avant de s'éloigner.

Abraham s'apprêtait à avancer, prendre la tête du groupe et les amener au rayon des pistolets à filet, quand un chasseur se dressa devant eux. _C'était une caricature de redneck, comme dans les films_ , Niamh se fit la réflexion en le regardant. Il portait un t-shirt blanc sale couvert de taches grasses non identifiées, une chemise à carreaux déboutonnée et une casquette couvrant des cheveux à l'hygiène douteuse. Par curiosité, et bien qu'elle sache que c'était une mauvaise idée, Niamh inspira discrètement, cherchant à savoir si les clichés étaient vrais jusqu'au bout. Elle plissa les narines immédiatement, quand l'odeur de la bière lui envahit le nez. _Bon sang, on se croirait dans une série tellement c'était prévisible_ , maugréa-t-elle intérieurement.

-Vous voulez en attraper un sans le tuer, c'est ça ? cracha-t-il à Abraham sans une once de respect. Votre loup enragé, vous en ferez quoi, ensuite ? Vous vous ferez un cinoche et un p'tit restau ?

Cette pique assez lamentable déclencha une vague d'hilarité chez les autres chasseurs, qui s'étaient rassemblés en cercle autour de la petite équipe, manifestement avide de se venger de leurs moqueries. Avec son dédain habituel, Mitch le renvoya dans ses buts, son argumentaire scientifique bien supérieur à la bravade un peu trop simple du chasseur.

-Les loups enragés n'ont pas ce genre de comportement, asséna-t-il en jaugeant le chasseur avec mépris, tandis que celui-ci le toisait avec un air supérieur. Non, les loups enragés ne se déplacent pas en meute, ils sont ostracisés et doivent avancer seuls.

-J'm'en fous, moi, qu'ils aient la rage ou pas, j'vais pas faire de différence. Dans les deux cas, ils mourront, répliqua du tac au tac l'homme.

Niamh serra les dents en grognant. Voilà précisément pourquoi elle n'aimait pas beaucoup les humains, et pourquoi elle détestait les chasseurs. Ces crétins pompeux qui croyaient qu'ils pouvaient abattre des loups simplement parce que ce sont des prédateurs, et que dans l'imaginaire collectif, c'était le Grand Méchant Loup ! Elle grogna, attirant encore une fois l'attention discrète d'Abraham, qui passa dessus une nouvelle fois, préférant se concentrer sur la joute qui risquait de dégénérer en rixe. Il avait l'air si sûr de lui avec son petit sourire supérieur… Cela lui hérissa la nuque, et en un instant, elle se laissa aller à une petite colère. Elle faisait sa taille, mais avec sa rage, elle paraissait plus imposante.

-Le seul animal enragé que je vois ici, c'est vous, grogna-t-elle. Si vous voulez tuer des choses, commencez par vos enfants, histoire d'empêcher la prolifération de branches malades dans votre arbre généalogique, persifla-t-elle avec une telle haine que le chasseur fit un demi-pas en arrière, plus surpris qu'effrayé.

C'était extrêmement violent comme répartie, et elle le savait, mais elle n'en avait cure. Elle ne se sentait pas proche des humains, et chaque jour qui passait lui faisait sentir combien elle différait d'eux. Alors que les loups, eux, lui étaient toujours apparus comme une espèce familière et amicale.

Abraham l'attrapa par l'épaule d'une poigne de fer et la poussa devant lui tout en attrapant également Mitch.

-Merci monsieur, on va vous laisser. Allez, venez, on va chercher ce filet…

Derrière eux, un silence lourd de menaces se déposa sur la petite assemblée pendant qu'ils s'approchaient du rayon mentionné par le vendeur.

-Bon, quand on se dirigera vers la caisse, pas de coup d'éclat, hein ? fit Abraham, passablement anxieux.

-Hé, j'ai assuré avec ce chasseur, se récria Mitch, outré, en soupesant un fusil de l'étagère.

-C'est marrant, j'dirais pas ça… Et toi, Niamh, c'est pas mieux. Ils pourraient très bien nous attendre dehors et nous tabasser ou nous péter les genoux, la morigéna-t-il.

La jeune fille ne répondit pas, toujours boudeuse et de mauvaise humeur. Qu'ils essaient seulement, tiens… Ils attrapèrent leur pistolet en vitesse et se dépêchèrent de gagner la caisse, sous le regard torve des chasseurs. Pendant qu'Abraham payait, Niamh vit se rapprocher le même redneck que tout à l'heure, l'air déterminé. En soupirant d'agacement, la jeune fille emboîta le pas aux deux adultes pressés de quitter la boutique, mais s'arrêta quand une main se posa sur son épaule pour la forcer à s'arrêter.

-Hé, on n'a pas fini de parler, toi et moi, disait le chasseur sur un ton agressif.

 _Moi je crois que si_ , pensa Niamh avec un rictus de colère et de dégoût.

Elle retourna le bras de l'humain et le précipita à terre d'un mouvement fluide avant d'agripper son t-shirt, ses ongles à demi transformés en griffes déchirant le tissu sous ses doigts. Elle grogna à son adresse, incapable de se retenir, quand bien même ce comportement étrange détonne particulièrement, et sentit comme un picotement dans ses yeux, signe qu'ils avaient viré à l'or fondu.

-Si je te croise, demain, je t'égorge, siffla-t-elle à l'intention de l'homme qui avait pâli vertigineusement.

-Excusez-moi, monsieur, mon amie est un peu… irascible, se justifia Abraham en attrapant Niamh par les épaules et en la sortant du magasin en catastrophe. Bon sang, mais pourquoi t'as fait ça ? la réprimanda-t-il.

-Je _hais_ les chasseurs. Je _hais_ ceux qui tuent pour le sport. C'était plus fort que moi, quand il a dit qu'il n'en avait rien à foutre de savoir si les loups étaient fous ou pas, qu'il les tuerait quoi qu'il arrive… j'ai pété un câble.

En soupirant, Abraham la lâcha et lui fit signe de retourner à la voiture pendant qu'il restait avec Mitch un instant.

-Elle est encore plus irritable que vous, j'ai l'impression, plaisanta-t-il avec le vétérinaire.

-Elle est surtout carrément instable, rétorqua Mitch en la désignant, absolument pas conscient qu'elle entendait parfaitement leur conversation.

Ils remontèrent finalement dans le SUV et roulèrent jusqu'à l'hôtel où Chloé avait réservé deux chambres communicantes. Ils étaient arrivés avant l'autre groupe, et les attendirent donc au bar de l'hôtel en discutant pour passer le temps.

-Dis, Niamh… T'as pas des parents qui s'inquièteraient de ton absence ? Ca fait deux jours que tu as disparu des radars, pourtant, non ? s'enquit Abraham, tandis que Mitch commandait un troisième verre d'eau.

-Ma mère est morte, lâcha la métamorphe d'une voix atone, le visage impassible, enfouissant ses émotions au plus profond de son cœur et refusant de les laisser paraître.

Abraham baissa les yeux, troublé et gêné de s'être ainsi immiscé dans le passé de la jeune fille. Il s'apprêtait à lui faire des excuses, mais elle ne lui en laissa pas le temps.

-C'est mon père qui l'a tuée. Il l'a battue à mort quand il a découvert que je n'étais pas sa fille. Il voulait m'éliminer aussi, mais il n'en a pas eu les tripes. A la place, il m'a bannie de la meute.

Mitch, bien que particulièrement dubitatif sur son histoire de meute et de métamorphisme, parut affecté par ses mots et lui adressa un regard peiné et embarrassé. Même s'il apparaissait le plus souvent comme un ours mal léché de mauvais poil, il était parfaitement capable d'empathie et de sympathie.

-Je suis désolé, j'aurais pas dû demander… s'excusa Abraham avec regrets.

-C'est rien. Vous pouviez pas savoir. Mais du coup… non. Pas de parents pour s'inquiéter de ma disparition. Ma mère repose six pieds sous terre, mon père ne veut plus entendre parler de moi, et mon oncle, le chef de meute, a fait savoir à toute meute qui m'hébergerait qu'elle serait sanctionnée. Je suis seule, et c'est pas plus mal, termina-t-elle sans parvenir cette fois à dissimuler une grimace amère.

-Admettons que cette histoire de meute soit vraie… postula Abraham, sous le regard agacé, voire excédé, de Mitch. Hier pendant la réunion, tu as parlé de deux sous-espèces, que tu appartiendrais un peu aux deux. Desquelles tu parles ?

-Merde, Abraham, vous allez pas me dire que vous la croyez, en plus ? grogna Mitch en reposant bruyamment son verre sur le comptoir.

-De toutes façons, les autres sont arrivés, on va devoir changer de sujet, marmonna Niamh en se levant de son siège.

Effectivement, Chloé, Jamie et Jackson venaient de franchir la porte d'entrée et les avisaient au comptoir. Ils vinrent les retrouver et les invitèrent à monter avec eux dans leurs chambres pour se raconter les dernières nouvelles. Dans l'ascenseur, collée entre la paroi et Jackson, Niamh sentit l'odeur du feu et des cendres sur lui. Même en n'ayant pas assisté directement à l'incendie, en ayant seulement fait un rapide passage sur les lieux du sinistre, les effluves s'étaient accrochés à lui. Ça avait dû être un sacré barbecue, là-bas…

Ils pénétrèrent dans leurs chambres respectives, puis ouvrirent la porte communicante pour discuter. D'après ce qu'ils avaient vu à la prison, Chloé, Jamie et Jackson pensaient que les loups avaient attaqué sans chef de meute, mais qu'ils s'en seraient trouvé un au sein du pénitencier, en la personne de Evan Lee Hartley. Aussi étrange que cela puisse paraître, leur comportement vis-à-vis de l'humain était celui de loups soumis à leur alpha. Après avoir écouté le rapport détaillé des événements qui s'étaient produits du côté de Chloé, Abraham s'avança d'un pas pour raconter ce qui s'était passé pour lui et son groupe.

-On a acheté un pistolet à filet, mais en revanche… il va falloir que vous preniez Niamh avec vous demain.

-Pourquoi ça ? demanda Chloé.

-C'est mieux pour tout le monde, répondit l'intéressée simplement. Si je vais avec eux à la recherche d'un loup à capturer, ça va se terminer en meurtre.

Jackson et Chloé échangèrent un regard perplexe, se demandant comment il était possible d'en arriver en si peu de temps à se battre à mort ?

-Mitch et Niamh se sont mis à dos les chasseurs, mais je crois que si Niamh en croise un demain, elle risque de le tuer…

-Bon, très bien, accepta Chloé. Demain, Niamh viendra avec moi à ma morgue pour faire le tour des corps et identifier les prisonniers décédés, Abraham et Mitch attraperont le loup et Jackson et Jamie iront à la prison examiner les éventuels indices laissés par les loups, sur leur nombre, ou leur organisation.

Le groupe hocha la tête et fila au lit sans que personne ne proteste. Même s'ils n'avaient pas mangé, ils étaient épuisés après leur long voyage en avion et leurs aventures de la journée. Les garçons se replièrent dans leur chambre, et les filles dans la leur. Niamh se mit rapidement en pyjama et se glissa sous sa couette avant de s'assoupir presque immédiatement, épuisée par son métabolisme ultra-consommateur. Elle avait conscience, en marge de son ouïe, de Jackson et Abraham qui discutaient dans la chambre voisine, et de Chloé et Jamie qui échangeaient au sujet de Hartley autour d'une tisane, dont l'odeur douce lui embrumait les sens, l'aidant à s'enfoncer plus profondément dans le sommeil.

-Elle dort toujours ? demanda Chloé dans un murmure en désignant Niamh d'un mouvement de tête alors qu'elle s'avachissait sur un fauteuil.

-Ouais, soupira Jamie. Elle a pas bougé d'un cheveu depuis qu'elle a fermé les yeux. En tout cas, si j'en crois ce que je viens de trouver sur Hartley, c'était un mec normal, jusqu'au jour où il a soudainement craqué et poignardé un groupe de chasseurs dans la forêt de Pearl River. En fait, il ressemble plutôt à notre propre militante anti-chasse, sur cet aspect agressivité…

-Quand il a été appréhendé, il a dit : « tous les chasseurs doivent mourir ». Elle est moins extrême, quand même, la nôtre. Elle a eu la présence d'esprit de se retirer de l'équation avant de passer à l'étape meurtre, plaisanta doucement la française avec un sourire.

Une vague de sommeil plus lourde que les autres engloutit Niamh alors qu'elle écoutait distraitement la conversation, l'entraînant dans les limbes. Ce n'est qu'aux alentours de une heure du matin qu'elle fut tirée rapidement du sommeil par les bruits de pas de Chloé dans la chambre, précédant le claquement de la porte quand elle sortit, victime de l'insomnie. Jugeant qu'il n'y avait pas de danger, et surtout beaucoup trop fatiguée pour se concentrer sur son réveil, la métamorphe sombra à nouveau sans un mouvement.

Au matin quand le réveil sonna, vers sept heures, elle se sentait vasouilleuse, encore fatiguée, et peina à s'arracher des bras de Morphée. Ils attendirent que toute l'équipe soit prête pour descendre prendre un bon petit déjeuner, et s'attablèrent au restaurant de l'hôtel. Ils se servirent généreusement de leurs mets préférés, conscients qu'une longue journée les attendaient, mais restèrent sans voix devant la quantité de nourriture que parvint à engloutir leur recrue irlandaise.

-Bah quoi ? Les métamorphes ont un organisme qui consomme beaucoup plus de nourriture que les humains, se justifia-t-elle en se servant un troisième bol de café au buffet.

Aucun des membres du groupe n'était encore à l'aise avec son « délire » de métamorphe. Alves l'avait placée dans l'équipe, alors ils la gardaient, mais pour le moment, non seulement elle s'en tenait à cette histoire délirante sans en démordre, mais en plus, elle compliquait sa première mission en s'énervant après un chasseur. Mitch leva les yeux au ciel, Chloé ignora la jeune fille, concentrée sur son café et son croissant, et son téléphone à portée de main, Jackson regardait ailleurs, embarrassé, Jamie l'imitait, et seul Abraham osait encore la regarder dans les yeux.

Après le petit déjeuner, les groupes se formèrent. Abraham et Mitch prirent le SUV avec le pistolet à filet dans le coffre, et se mirent en route pour la forêt, pour capturer un loup. Chloé, Jamie, Jackson et Niamh montèrent dans la seconde voiture, en direction de la prison, où elle déposa Jackson et Jamie, avant de repartir aussi sec pour la morgue. Durant le trajet, la jeune fille entendit se contenter de regarder dehors, mais l'agent de la DGSE en avait décidé autrement.

-Ecoute, quand on sera à la morgue, tu te fais discrète, d'accord ? Pas de coup d'éclat, pas de bagarre avec un chasseur blessé de passage à l'hôpital ?

Niamh grommela un assentiment maussade et se retrancha une nouvelle fois dans le silence. Chloé soupira avec lassitude.

-Pourquoi tu es là ? demanda-t-elle ensuite d'un ton acide, le regard fixé sur la route. Je veux dire, Alves t'a mise dans l'équipe alors que vraisemblablement, tu n'es ni vétérinaire, ni zoologue, ni analyste des services de renseignements, ni actionnaire d'une grande entreprise comme Reiden Global… En bref, tu n'apportes rien à l'équipe. Même Jamie, qui, si j'ai bien compris, a été prise uniquement parce que Mitch l'a demandé, peut nous aider, avec son talent pour faire parler les gens et mener l'enquête.

Niamh soupira à son tour et tourna son regard bleu glacé dans celui de Chloé.

-Si vous avez le temps, avec cette crise, interrogez Alves sur les raisons qui l'ont poussé à me forcer à intégrer l'équipe. Je vous rappelle que vous et les autres, vous êtes libres. Moi, je fais un pas de travers et je suis foutue. Et si vous tenez tant à savoir ce que je peux faire pour aider, attendez qu'on se retrouve face à un danger… Jackson est zoologue, Abraham est organisateur de safaris, Mitch est vétérinaire, Jamie est journaliste, et vous vous êtes analyste. Dans toute cette joyeuse bande de cerveaux, à part Abraham, je ne vois aucun gros bras pour vous protéger en cas d'attaque. Je remplis le rôle de gros bras.

Un long silence sépara les deux femmes tandis que la française conduisait, légèrement énervée. Ce n'étaient pas des réponses valables, qu'elle lui avait donné ! C'était tout juste un moyen de contourner la question ! Le temps qu'elles arrivent à la morgue du comté, Chloé n'avait pas mieux réussi à arracher des informations utiles à la métamorphe, qui s'entêtait à ne lui donner que cette histoire fantasmée de loups-garous. Sans un mot, et d'une humeur massacrante, elle suivit le médecin légiste à qui elle avait donné rendez-vous pour l'identification du corps du ressortissant français, en accord avec sa couverture d'employée de l'ambassade de France.

Quand elles se retrouvèrent devant la porte hermétique qui menait à la salle d'autopsie et aux casiers où le légiste entreposait les corps dans l'attente de leur enterrement, Niamh s'arrêta net. La porte filtrait très bien les odeurs, elle ne sentait presque rien de ce qui l'attendait de l'autre côté, ses narines monopolisées par l'odeur aseptisée du couloir. Néanmoins, elle n'avait aucune hâte à l'idée de suivre Chloé et le médecin de l'autre côté. Ce dernier remarqua sa répugnance à entrer dans la salle et lui proposa de rester dehors, le temps que les adultes discutent. Bien que se voir rappeler une nouvelle fois sa minorité apparente l'agace, elle était bien contente de pouvoir se soustraire à cette tâche. Sauf que c'était sans compter sur Chloé, bien déterminée à la faire se rendre utile après le fiasco avec les chasseurs de la veille.

-Non, c'est bon. Elle vient avec moi, assura-t-elle au légiste qui lui retourna un regard intrigué. Je ne dois pas la perdre des yeux : instructions de son maître de stage.

-Dommage pour toi, le médecin souffla à l'oreille de Niamh alors qu'elle entrait à leur suite dans la pièce immaculée.

-Alors comme ça, maintenant je suis assez âgée pour faire un stage à l'ambassade ? railla la jeune fille à l'attention de Chloé à voix basse.

-Silence. Hier je devais les faire obéir, et ça m'a semblé une bonne excuse, c'est tout, rétorqua la française avec colère, mais tout aussi discrètement.

Immédiatement, elle décida qu'il serait plus sûr pour elle et pour son estomac retourné qu'elle ne respire plus que par la bouche. Du peu qu'elle avait humé, elle avait perçu une très forte odeur de produits chimiques pour désinfecter les tables et les instruments, ou pour préserver les chairs extraites des corps, ainsi qu'une odeur très prenante également de décomposition. Même si les parfums chimiques qu'ils respiraient tous étaient très forts, elle avait un odorat beaucoup plus sensible que les humains et percevait donc clairement la putréfaction et l'odeur de certains corps calcinés. Elle réprima un haut-le-cœur qui passa inaperçu et s'approcha de l'immense mur de casiers où les morts attendaient en silence.

-Premier corps, il est gravement brûlé, mais… commença le légiste en ouvrant le tiroir. Comme vous pouvez le voir, il a été égorgé, on voit très clairement les traces de crocs qui lui ont sectionné la jugulaire.

Chloé fronça le nez, écœurée, et Niamh en tira une étrange satisfaction sadique. Elle avait insisté pour que la jeune fille vienne, ayant conscience qu'elle n'en avait aucune envie, et maintenant, celle-ci prenait sa revanche. La française n'avait pas l'habitude de voir des humains ou des animaux morts, contrairement à Niamh, qui n'était donc pas dérangée par la vue, mais plutôt par l'odeur qui envahissait maintenant toute la pièce.

-Ce n'est pas notre ressortissant, dit très vite Chloé pour que le légiste referme le tiroir.

Ils passèrent en revue tous les corps, mais Chloé ne put prendre le risque d'en désigner un au hasard, pour découvrir plus tard qu'en fait il s'agissait bien d'un américain.

-Tous les corps sont là, mademoiselle Toussignant, déclara le légiste d'un ton concerné. Vous êtes sûre qu'aucun n'était votre français ?

-Je ne l'ai pas reconnu, non, mais peut-être était-il parmi les corps trop brûlés ou trop abîmés par les loups… Je vais demander son dossier dentaire à l'ambassade, je reviendrai avec plus d'éléments, s'engagea-t-elle en serrant la main du légiste alors qu'ils quittaient la morgue.

A l'extérieur, Chloé s'appliqua à respirer profondément pour faire passer son malaise, tandis que Niamh éternuait en boucle, tentant par tous les moyens de se débarrasser de cette odeur de mort qui collait à ses vêtements et à ses narines.

-Pas de Hartley, alors, hein ? finit-elle par lâcher après un énième éternuement. Il a donc survécu à l'attaque des loups, ce qui corroborerait l'idée qu'ils l'aient pris pour un alpha.

-On doit retourner à la prison, rendre compte à Jackson et Jamie de ce qu'on a trouvé. J'espère que de leur côté, Abraham et Mitch se débrouillent…

Rien que de penser aux chasseurs qui devaient en ce moment même abattre des loups dans la forêt, Niamh se mit à grogner, oubliant immédiatement son problème d'odeur de mort. Elle monta dans la voiture avec la française et elles roulèrent jusqu'au pénitencier de Biloxi. Jackson et Jamie les attendaient avec des parapluies et s'approchèrent d'elles quand elles descendirent de la voiture pour faire le point, mais seul Jackson leur prêtait toute son attention, la journaliste étant actuellement au téléphone.

-On a vu les corps de tous les prisonniers retrouvés morts dans la cour. Pas de Evan Lee Hartley, annonça Chloé d'une voix froide.

-Raah, j'espérais m'être trompé… maugréa Jackson avec déception.

-Ok, merci pour les informations, dit Jamie en raccrochant son téléphone puis elle se tourna vers les trois autres. Hey, attendez-moi, vous allez pas le croire. La dernière personne qui est sortie vivante de la prison avant l'attaque des loups est la veuve de l'une des victimes de notre chef de meute, balança-t-elle comme s'il s'agissait du scoop du siècle.

-Qu'est-ce qu'elle faisait ici ? demanda immédiatement Jackson, incrédule.

-Attendez une seconde, ça y est, Hartley c'est un chef de meute, maintenant ? intervint Niamh, soudainement nerveuse.

-On a trouvé des empreintes de loup et d'homme mêlées, sortant de la cour de la prison. On pense que les loups ont creusé sous le grillage pour faire sortir Evan Lee Hartley et qu'il a pris leur tête, répondit obligeamment Jackson en se tournant vers elle.

Niamh baissa la tête et pâlit vertigineusement. Si c'était bien le cas, si Hartley était l'alpha des loups, dans ce cas, plusieurs possibilités s'ouvraient à elle, et aucune ne lui plaisait beaucoup…

-Il semblerait qu'elle ait vu Hartley, à sa demande, répondit Jamie à la première question de Jackson.

-Ça vaudrait le coup de savoir pourquoi elle est venue. Allez voir cette femme, interrogez-la, ordonna Chloé à Jamie d'une voix plus douce pour nuancer son autoritarisme. Si Jackson a raison, elle sait peut-être des choses sur le comportement inhabituel des loups. Et… peut-être même qu'ils ont parlé de ça. Nous on va essayer de retrouver Mitch et Abraham.

Niamh s'empressa de monter à l'arrière de la voiture, de crainte qu'on lui rappelle qu'elle devait se tenir éloignée des chasseurs et qu'on l'envoie interroger la veuve, elle aussi.

-D'accord, acquiesça Jamie, prévenez-moi quand vous les trouverez. Bonne chance.

Chloé monta dans la voiture à son tour, suivie de Jackson qui s'installa en place passager, et démarra.

* * *

Eeet c'est tout. Dans le prochain chapitre, retour de la Bête. J'espère que vous aimerez la façon dont j'essaie de tourner le personnage de Niamh, pour éviter qu'elle soit complètement cheatée, parce que merde, ça reste un putain de loup-garou.


	5. Chapter 5 : The Beast

**Here's the next update, hope you'll like it :)**

* * *

 **CHAPITRE 5**

During the drive, Niamh reviewed all the possibilites she did come to with her reflexion. Either the wolves were mad and mistook a human for their pack leader, this hypothesis sustaining the crazy theory about rebellious animals messing around, going against their normal behavior. Or… or Hartley was actually a wolf too. Besides, maybe it was his pack who broke him out of the prison ! Ok, but then why would they have let him rot in humans' world for so long ? No, it didn't make any sense… So maybe he was himself a pariah, an outcast, and that his pack ostracized him, like the wolves did with their rabid peers ? Or we simply came back to the hypothesis of animal wolves who just snapped. No. Too weird, and scientifically hardly defendable. The theory of the pack abandonned wolf better held water, but the question remained of knowing who were these wolves and why they had waited so long to save their alpha. Unless…

In front of the car, Jackson and Chloé were idly chatting about everything and nothing, though they noticed Niamh's deafening silence. They already knew she wasn't really talkative, but here, she was downright closed on her, and not only quiet as ordinarily. Outside of the driving car, she was watching the forest passing in front of her at full speed as they were going along the edge.

Eventually, Chloé stopped the car just next to Mitch and Abraham's SUV, and all three of them got out of the car, closely observing the undergrowth. Several pick-ups and cars were parked in front of the entrance of the forest, probably belonging to the numerous hunters who invested the tree cover.

"Great, hunters. That's just what we need…" Jackson grumbled with sarcasm as he saw the vans.

Niamh groaned her assent, hands deep in the kangaroo pocket of her grey hoodie. If they had to find themselves face to face with a hunter while looking for Mitch and Abraham, she would not be able to restrain herself. Chloé immediately took the lead of the group and cocked her gun, "just in case", as she said. They took a few steps under the trees, still on the border, just enough for Niamh to begin feeling home. The familiar noises and scents surrounded her like a reassuring cocoon, and she relaxed sensibly.

"So, how do we find them ?" Chloé asked to Jackson.

"This way", the zoologist answered by designating a piece of wood split in half and planted in the soil.

Niamh inhaled and confirmed this statement, even adding that the track was barely three hours old. It would be easy to follow, especially in this wet forest, leaving persistent marks of the trails in the soil and humus. They entered the forest more deeply, walking at a quick pace to find their friends as soon as possible. As they were moving between trunks which just lied in the path, low branches and bushy shrubs, they kept their mouths shut, focused on avoiding to trip on roots and fall.

"Watch your step, there's a lot of undergrowth here", Jackson warned, pushing away a branch.

"I'm fine", Chloé protested, feeling like he said it for her.

Niamh grumbled, quite upset about Jackson thinking she could be in any difficulty in such environment. She was in her natural element here, she was master of the situation, practically, as the trees still were really close of each other and the undergrowth congested with brushwood.

"I'm just trying to watch out for you", Jackson defended himself.

Without even stopping, Chloé undertook to defend her honor and dignity, rather annoyed that Jackson mistook her for a sap.

"Listen, I know you may find this hard to believe, since the girl you met in Africa was hysterical and running for her life…" she started.

So Niamh was right, they actually had met before the meeting, at Tokyo… And they even had been at the lion attack. It was good to know, both of them, and Abraham too she guessed, were already confronted to the terror of facing a wild animal determined to kill them.

"… But I'm very capable of taking care of myself…" she concluded before tripping on a root and fall on a carcass of what looked like a woolly cow.

She had a mortified look on her face, pale as a corpse, motionless and petrified with disgust. Not charitable at all, Niamh let out a nervous mocking sneer. She had smelled the odour of the carcass for a moment, but she had prefered not to think about it and instead focus on the track of Mitch and Abraham. Besides their smell, she also detected that of a badger and its cubs, of two foxes and that, absolutely repulsing and pervasive, of human hunters, of their gunpowder and their alcohol.

Moreover, the familiar smell of the wolves seemed to overrun the air, making it almost impossible to precisely hunt down under her human form, because it required a much more sensitive nose to sense the slight variations of scents. Find the fragrance of two people in particular wasn't as easy as it seemed, and even less in human form.

Jackson and Chloé were talking about the carcass while scrubing their arms and clothes with a wipe to try to get rid of the odour sticking to them, to no avail, and of the blood staining the French woman's clothes, this time quite successfully. While they did so, Niamh was smelling the forest deeply, her eyes closed, only focused on her overdeveloped sense of smell. She was looking for the two other members of their group, persuaded that if she focused enough, she could locate them, at least roughly. She knew they went through here, but she was trying to determine their position, and that was a lot trickier. However, the total lack of wind didn't help the girl, as the odour wouldn't come to her, and the rain that had fallen earlier buried the world in an olfactory veil of dirt and wet humus.

Suddenly, Jackson picked something up from the soil, as small as a microchip, and handed it to Chloé.

"Hey. These look like Hartley's prison blues ?" Jackson asked.

The piece of fabric was stained with mud and blood, but the faded blue color of the prisonner uniform could still be guessed.

"Perhaps. Why ?"

"Maybe it wasn't an animal that did this", Jackson supposed by designating the eviscerated animal.

"Evan Lee Hartley rolled around inside that ?" Chloé winced with a digusted face.

"Sure looks like it."

Niamh clenched her jaws, rather annoyed. If it was really what happened, then she would have no way to find him, even more in her human form. His human fragrance covered by that of the carrion, she would have a hard time trying to make it out for him between all the putrefaction smells in the undergrowth, from the dead rat to dead leaves, passing by moldy stumps and rotten eggs.

They continued their walk for a moment, gaining ground with difficulty under the unpenetrable tree cover. Niamh was getting nervous, she had the persistent and worrying sensation to hear grunts in the distance, but she wasn't sure of it… The two others were so bad at walking silently, tripping their feet in dead twigs, stomping on tree barks and fallen leaves, causing in the metamorph's watchful ears a lot of parasitic noise, making her localisation job harder. Herself, used to the forest walks since her early childhood, as to the hide and seek games with wolves who had a great hearing, she wasn't doing any sound, practically, which was quite of a feat, even for a wolf, considering the impracticable aspect of this place when it came to discretion.

As she was complaining internally against her companions, as stealthy and airy as elephants in a chine shop, the wind slightly turned and she then smelled a new fragrance, that hit her right in the nose. A wolf. An animal, not a metamorph, giving the scent. It was bleeding, and not moving. A few dozen meters further, they found it, a grey wolf lying on his side, its breathing quick and noisy, and a red hole in its abdomen.

"Shot by hunter", Jackson quickly analyzed by leaning on the wolf cautiously.

Infuriated by that, Niamh grunted loudly, starting to let her claws out and ready to fight with the one responsible of this, were they still in the area or not, while the two others were crouching next to the wounded canid.

Suddenly, a long howl sounded in the west, and the girl stood briskly. Everything in her attitude shouted her animal side awakening and taking over her human side : ears, maintaining of the head and body, her lips rolled on her sharp teeth, almost fangs… It was Harltey's pack, she was certain of that.

She rushed forward, extremely quick, a lot more that when she followed the humans at their pace, projecting her body forward, worrying about Mitch and Abraham. She feared more than anything that the wolves had found them, and so she let her blood boil in her veins. Instantly, the transformation took place, and it suddenly was a hairy figure that agilely squeeze through the trees and ran away from Jackson and Chloé.

Still leaning on the wolf, they couldn't contain their surprise and shock as they witnessed this scene, and lost their balance, falling to the soil without really realizing what they had just seen. They shot a stunned glance at each other in disbelief before to recompose and get up laboriously. They then began to run after the Beast, also looking for the source of the previous lupine howl.

Niamh was racing through the woods, her thick fur protecting her from the low branches that tried to graze her flanks, and her gaze still fixed on her objective. Still running, she heard a bang, once, twice, thrice. Three gunshots, further forward. She sped up even more, but still was incapable to run full speed because of the trees that blocked the way. Straight forward, closer and closer, she could hear barks and howls from the marching pack, likely to be encountering the hunters, or at least trying to run from them.

She ran for only two more minutes, after smelling a strong wolf fragrance and that, more diffuse, of her two friends, and ended up finding them. She froze a few inches from them, who stood still in terror, rationnally. It was the first time they saw a creature such as her : an improbable mix of wolf and bear, with a figure both slender lupine, and stocky like that of the plantigrade, with a tail similar to wolves', but with ears more like bears'. Similarly, her canid long muzzle was generously provided with fangs, arranged as those of the wolves, while her neck was decorated with a collar of thick and fluffy fur, giving to her back the classic curves of the bears'.

She allowed herself to internally sigh in relief, as her animal avatar closed its eyes and let go the tension within her muscles, rolling under her fur. With her fear also gradually vanished her human mind, her animal side slowly taking over her, without being noticed. The strange compulsion she felt the last time she transformed, to save her friend Richard, spread out its tentacles in her mind weackened by worry and then by relief, until it corrupted it. Under Mitch and Abraham's disbelieving and fearful eyes, the Beast's eyes, gold with a perfectly round pupil, started to dribble, just like paint, the pupil suddenly dilating.

And all of a sudden, she didn't see anything but one. Humans. Not friends anymore, nor even colleagues. No, only humans. Meat. And after her race, she was slightly hungry. She began to growl towards them, cocking her head and slowly approaching them. It forced Mitch to retreat hastily, before stopping as soon as he started, pinned down by the terrifying molten gold glance that just turned towards him.

She growled even louder, and stood up on her hind legs, ready to strike with her front legs, when a single word broke the spell. Or rather, it was like a stone thrown into a pond, wrinckling the peaceful surface of the water. This only word broke the monotony of her death drive, reminding her her dual status : wolf, but also human, at least outwarldy.

"Niamh ?" Abraham ventured with a voice trembling with uncertainty.

The tremendous creature in front of him took its paws against its abdomen, cocked its head towards him, and for a second he thought that he saw in its distorted eyes a glare of lucidity. He got up, slowly, and held out his hand in front of him, while Mitch watched him doing without a word. He would have loved shouting at the tall black man to step back and stop acting stupid with this monster, but he was so terrified that his throat was too dry, with a knot preventing him to talk. Abraham approached a little more the animal, which was so tall it towered him from about one meter, and suspended his hand in the air.

"Niamh, is that you ?"

These other words stroke on the strange barrier cutting the girl from her mind, and weakened it so much it seemed ready to break. She fell back on her four legs and slowly approached her big hybrid face, so close to both wolf and bear, to Abraham's, who was bravely trying to hide the uncontrolled shaking of his knees. However, he felt that his words had an impact on the creature, so he held firm. A big and wet truffle went sticking on his chest and inhaled deeply his smell, while he kept his eyes in the Beast's.

Niamh sniffed Abraham's fragrance a few more seconds, the scent definitely reminding her of something, slowly awakening her numb neurons. It was a friend's odour. But she couldn't find the way back in Mankind's world.

"Niamh O'Connor, would you like to come back with us ?" Abraham asked with a soft voice, even daring to place his hand on the Beast's thick fur collar.

The barrier suddenly blew up, and the light shone in the young metamorph's mind. She could still feel the compulsion, ready to overwhelm her as soon as she'd be distracted, but for now, she managed to keep it at bay, and saw again with lucid eyes. She fluttered her eyelids, looked around her, saw Mitch still not moving, lying on the ground, and Abraham, standing in front of her, a hand on her shoulder. She took a step back and stood again on her hind legs, scaring the shit out of the vet who let out an irrespressible squeak, while the big black guy 'only' moved back quickly, fearing that he didn't succeed to soothe the creature.

Instead of that, the fur, the fangs, the claws and the tail retracted, the human figure took over the hybrid's clumsy and muscular silhouette, and all of a sudden, Niamh was standing in front of the two men, breathless and on the edge to pass out. The transformation itself wasn't grueling, but struggling against such a strong and dark force within her own mind, as every nerve, every cell, every fiber of herself was roaring inside of her to let go every bound… _that_ was fucking exhausting.

She fell on her knees, and then on all fours, panting, and then she felt Abraham helping her while Mitch stayed at a safe distance from her.

"What the **_FUCK_** was that ?!" he finally yelped.

"That, Mitch, I think it was the 'disturbed girl' ", Abraham mocked with a large smile, referring to the denigrating qualifier Mitch used for Niamh, the day they met at Tokyo, as he noticed the girl wasn't harmed, only out of energy.

Some step noises suddenly drew their attention on their right. When they turned towards that direction, they were totally relieved to see it only was Chloé and Jackson, and not Hartley coming back with his pack.

"They are there !" exclaimed Cholé, breathless.

"Abe !" called Jackson, rushing to Mitch and his friend, both of them still shaking after their meeting with the Beast.

"Seems like Niamh found you…" the French woman whispered as she looked at the metamorph dodling her head.

"Yeah she did ! And she almost ate us !" Mitch yelled, still terrified and refusing to come closer.

"It wasn't her fault", Abraham immediately stepped in to defend the girl. "She did warn us it was dangerous, but none of us wanted to believe her."

A confused silence fell on the group for a few moments, before Chloé decided to talk again.

"An inmate escaped from the prison. We think he might be in these woods."

Abraham glanced at Mitch, who looked away, incapable of confronting the black man's eyes after what he did achieve with Niamh.

"Yeah, we saw him just now", he answered.

"Which way did he go ?" Jackson immediately asked, eager for battle.

"No, no. It's too dangerous", the DGSE agent reasonned. "I'll notify Deputy Kraft. In addition, I doubt we could go far with her in this shape", she added, showing the metamorph who ended up falling asleep, exhausted.

"What are you talking about ? He's connected to this, and he couldn't have gotten far !"

"Let Deputy Kraft do his job", Chloé insisted. "When they capture him, I'll arrange for an interview. For now, we have a wolf to take back to the hotel, and a… metamorph… to heal."

"With the arrival of Hartley and his pack, we couldn't catch anything", Abraham muttered, sorry he had fail.

"We saw one a couple hundred yards back. It's just been shot", Jackson announced.

"Let's go", Mitch urged them, already gone and leaving the others with Niamh.

Abraham, being the strongest member of the team, was charged to carry the girl. He took her bridal-style, very cautiously, as if she was in sugar and likely to break at any movement, though they were now all aware of the truthfulness of her story, and none of them doubted anymore of her resistance.

* * *

 **Et voilà la suite, j'espère que vous apprécierez :)**

* * *

 **CHAPITRE 5**

Dans la voiture, Niamh passa en revue les possibilités auxquelles elle était parvenue avec sa réflexion. Soit les loups étaient fous et prenaient un humain pour leur chef de meute, cette hypothèse étayant la théorie un peu folle des animaux révolutionnaires qui faisaient n'importe quoi, allant à l'encontre de leur comportement normal. Soit… soit Hartley était en réalité un loup, lui aussi. Mais dans ce cas-là, pourquoi sa meute n'était-elle pas venue le délivrer de la prison humaine ? D'ailleurs, peut-être était-ce sa meute qui était venue le chercher ! D'accord, mais pourquoi après l'avoir laissé si longtemps enfermé chez les humains ? Non, ça n'avait aucun sens… Peut-être alors qu'il était lui-même un paria chez les loups et que sa meute l'avait ostracisé, comme le font les loups avec leurs congénères enragés ? Ou alors, on en revenait à l'hypothèse des loups animaux qui avaient simplement pété un câble. Non. Trop bizarre, et scientifiquement difficilement défendable. La théorie du métamorphe abandonné par sa meute tenait plus la route, mais la question demeurait de savoir qui étaient ces loups et pourquoi ils avaient attendu aussi longtemps pour délivrer leur alpha. A moins que…

A l'avant de la voiture, Jackson et Chloé discutaient de tout et de rien, tout en notant le silence assourdissant de Niamh. Ils savaient qu'elle n'était pas très causante, mais là, elle était carrément renfermée sur elle-même, et pas uniquement silencieuse comme ordinairement. A l'extérieur de la voiture, elle voyait les arbres de la forêt défiler à toute allure tandis qu'ils la longeaient.

Enfin, Chloé arrêta la voiture juste à côté du SUV de Mitch et Abraham, et tous les trois en descendirent, observant d'un air sombre le sous-bois. Plusieurs pick-ups et voitures étaient garées devant l'entrée de la forêt, appartenant probablement aux nombreux chasseurs qui avaient investi le couvert des arbres.

-Génial, des chasseurs, marmonna Jackson en regardant les camionnettes, exactement ce qu'il nous fallait…

Niamh grogna son assentiment, les mains enfoncées dans la poche kangourou de son sweat à capuche gris. S'ils devaient se retrouver face à un chasseur pendant qu'ils cherchaient Mitch et Abraham, elle ne répondrait de rien. Chloé prit la tête du groupe immédiatement et arma son pistolet, « juste au cas où », disait-elle. Ils firent quelques pas à la lisière de la forêt, juste assez pour que Niamh commence déjà à se sentir comme chez elle. Les bruits et les odeurs familiers l'entouraient comme un cocon rassurant, et elle se détendit sensiblement.

-Alors, comment on va les retrouver ? demanda Chloé à Jackson.

-Ils sont par là, répondit le zoologiste en désignant un morceau de bois fendu en deux planté dans le sol.

Niamh huma l'air et confirma cette assertion, ajoutant même que la piste datait d'à peine trois heures. Elle serait facile à suivre, surtout dans une forêt humide qui laissait la marque des pistes dans la terre et l'humus persister pendant un certain temps. Ils pénétrèrent plus profondément dans les bois, marchant à un bon rythme pour retrouver le plus vite possible leur deux amis. Alors qu'ils évoluaient entre les troncs, les branches basses et les arbustes touffus, ils gardaient le silence, concentrés sur le fait d'éviter de trébucher sur des racines.

-Attention où vous mettez les pieds, vous pourriez vous faire mal, avertit Jackson en écartant de son chemin une branche de ronce.

-Ça va aller, se récria Chloé en se sentant visée.

Niamh maugréa, agacée que Jackson s'imagine qu'elle puisse se trouver en difficulté dans pareil environnement. Elle était dans son élément naturel, ici, elle était maître de la situation, ou presque, les arbres étant quand même très proches les uns des autres et le sous-bois encombré de broussailles.

-Oh, moi je dis ça pour vous, hein, se défendit Jackson.

Sans s'arrêter, Chloé entreprit de défendre son honneur et sa dignité, plutôt agacée que Jackson la prenne pour une cruche.

-Je sais que vous avez des _a priori_ sur moi parce que la fille que vous avez rencontrée en Afrique après l'assaut des lions était hystérique… commença-t-elle.

Alors Niamh avait vu juste, les deux se connaissaient avant même le meeting à Tokyo… Et ils avaient tous les deux été sur le lieu de l'attaque de lions. C'était bon à savoir, tous deux, et Abraham également, elle en déduisait, avaient déjà été confrontés à la terreur de faire face à un animal sauvage déterminé à les tuer.

-… Mais je suis capable de mettre un pied devant l'autre… termina-t-elle avant de trébucher et de s'étaler sur une carcasse de ce qui ressemblait à une vache laineuse.

Elle avait un air mortifié et était pâle comme une morte, immobile et pétrifiée de dégoût. Pas charitable pour deux sous, Niamh laissa échapper un petit ricanement nerveux moqueur. Elle avait senti l'odeur de la carcasse depuis un moment, mais avait préféré ne pas y penser et se concentrer plutôt sur la piste de Mitch et d'Abraham. A part leur odeur, elle avait également perçu celle d'un blaireau et de ses petits, de deux renards et celle, absolument repoussante et omniprésente, des chasseurs humains, de leur poudre à canon et de leur alcool.

De plus, l'odeur familière des loups semblait monopoliser l'air, rendant impossible toute traque précise sous forme humaine, car il fallait un nez beaucoup plus sensible pour percevoir les légères variations de senteurs. Retrouver l'effluve de deux personnes en particulier était moins évident qu'il n'y paraissait, et encore moins facile sous forme humaine.

Jackson et Chloé discutaient au sujet de la carcasse tout en se frottant les bras et les vêtements avec une lingette pour tenter de se débarrasser, en vain, de l'odeur, et, avec plus de succès, des taches de sang maculant les vêtements de la jeune femme. Pendant ce temps, Niamh humait la forêt en profondeur, les yeux fermés, uniquement concentrée sur son odorat surdéveloppé. Elle cherchait les deux autres membres du groupe, persuadée que si elle se concentrait suffisamment, elle parviendrait à les localiser, au moins grossièrement. Elle savait qu'ils étaient passés par là, mais elle essayait de déterminer leur position, ce qui était beaucoup plus compliqué. Cependant, l'absence totale de vent n'aidait pas la jeune fille, puisque l'odeur ne venait pas à elle, et que la pluie qui était tombée un peu plus tôt avait enveloppé le monde d'un voile olfactif de terre et d'humus mouillé.

Soudain, Jackson ramassa quelque chose par terre, de la taille d'une carte SD, et le tendit à Chloé.

-Regardez. Ça peut venir de l'uniforme d'Hartley ? demanda Jackson.

Le morceau de tissu était maculé de boue et de sang, mais on devinait encore la couleur bleue délavée de l'uniforme de prisonnier dont il était issu.

-Peut-être, pourquoi ?

-Parce que c'est peut-être pas un animal qui a fait ça… supposa Jackson en désignant le cadavre éventré.

-Vous voulez dire… qu'Evan Lee Hartley a pu se rouler là dedans ? grimaça Chloé avec une moue dégoûtée.

-C'est possible, oui.

Niamh serra les mâchoires, agacée. Si c'était bien le cas, elle n'aurait pas moyen de le retrouver, surtout son forme humaine. Son odeur d'humain couverte par celle de la charogne, elle peinerait beaucoup à distinguer sa trace parmi toutes les odeurs de putréfaction du sous-bois, allant du cadavre de rats aux feuilles mortes, en passant par les souches moisies et les œufs pourris.

Ils poursuivirent leur route un moment, progressant difficilement sous la voûte impénétrable des arbres. Niamh commençait à devenir nerveuse, elle avait l'impression persistante et inquiétante d'entendre des grognements dans le lointain, mais elle n'en était pas sûre… Les deux autres faisaient un raffut de tous les diables en marchant, s'emmêlant les pieds dans des brindilles mortes, écrasant des écorces et des feuilles tombées à terre, causant dans les oreilles aux aguets de la métamorphe tout un tas de bruits parasites qui rendaient difficile son travail de localisation. Elle-même, habituée aux balades en forêt depuis sa plus tendre enfance, ainsi qu'aux parties de cache-cache avec des loups aux oreilles extrêmement fines, ne faisait aucun bruit, ou presque, ce qui même pour un loup relevait de l'exploit compte tenu du côté impraticable du terrain quand on en venait à la discrétion.

Alors qu'elle pestait intérieurement contre ses deux compagnons, aussi discrets et aériens que des éléphants dans un magasin de porcelaine, le vent tourna légèrement et elle sentit une nouvelle odeur la percuter de plein fouet. Un loup. Un animal, pas un métamorphe, à l'odeur. Il saignait, et il ne bougeait pas. Quelques dizaines de mètres plus loin, ils tombèrent dessus, un loup gris couché sur le flanc, la respiration rapide, et un trou rouge au niveau de l'abdomen.

-Des chasseurs lui ont tiré dessus, analysa rapidement Jackson en se penchant sur lui précautionneusement.

Folle de rage, Niamh grogna bruyamment, commençant à sortir les griffes et prête à en découdre avec le responsable de cet acte, qu'il soit encore dans les parages ou non, pendant que les deux autres s'accroupissaient devant le canidé blessé.

Soudain, un hurlement retentit à l'ouest, et la jeune fille se redressa vivement. Tout dans sa posture clamait son côté animal qui s'éveillait et prenait le dessus sur son côté humain : oreilles, maintien de la tête et du corps, lèvres retroussées sur des dents pointues, presque des crocs… C'était la meute de Hartley, elle en était certaine.

Elle s'élança, extrêmement vive, bien plus que lorsqu'elle suivait les deux humains à leur rythme, projeta son corps en avant, inquiète pour Mitch et Abraham, craignait plus que tout que les loups leur soient tombés dessus, et laissa son sang bouillir dans ses veines. Instantanément, la transformation s'opéra, et ce fut une silhouette velue qui se faufila avec agilité entre les arbres et qui s'éloigna de Jackson et Chloé.

Toujours penchés sur le loup, ils ne purent contenir leur surprise et leur choc devant le spectacle qui s'était offert à eux, et en perdirent l'équilibre, sans trop réaliser ce à quoi ils venaient d'assister. Ils échangèrent un regard stupéfait et incrédule avant de reprendre leurs esprits et se relever péniblement, pour pouvoir se lancer eux aussi à la recherche de la source du hurlement lupin.

Niamh galopait à travers bois, son épaisse fourrure la protégeant des branches qui voudraient lui écorcher les flancs, et son regard toujours braqué sur son objectif. Courant toujours, une détonation retentit une fois, puis deux, puis trois. Trois coups de feu, plus loin devant. Elle accéléra encore, mais était toujours, et à sa grande colère, incapable de courir à pleine vitesse à cause des arbres qui entravaient sa route. Droit devant elle, de plus en plus proche, elle entendait les jappements et les hurlements de la meute en marche, affrontant vraisemblablement les chasseurs, ou au moins tentant de leur échapper.

Elle courut pendant encore à peine deux minutes, après avoir humé une forte odeur de loup et celle, plus diffuse car recouverte par celle des animaux, de ses deux amis, et finit par enfin tomber sur eux. Elle s'immobilisa à quelques centimètres d'eux, qui se figèrent de terreur, bien logiquement. C'était la première fois qu'ils devaient voir une créature telle qu'elle : un improbable mélange de loup et d'ours, à la silhouette à la fois lupine, élancée, et à la fois ramassée, trapue comme celle du plantigrade, dotée d'une queue semblable à celle des loups, mais d'oreilles plus proches des ours. De même, son museau allongé comme celui des canidés était généreusement pourvu en crocs agencés comme ceux des loups, alors que son cou orné d'une sorte de collier de fourrure touffue lui donnait la courbure de dos propre aux ours.

Elle s'autorisa alors à soupirer intérieurement de soulagement, tandis que son avatar animal fermait les yeux et relâchait la tension de ses muscles, roulant sous sa fourrure. Avec sa crainte s'évanouit également peu à peu son esprit humain, l'animal en elle reprenant lentement le dessus, sans qu'elle s'en aperçoive. L'étrange compulsion qu'elle avait ressentie la dernière fois qu'elle s'était transformée, pour sauver Richard, étendit pernicieusement ses tentacules dans son esprit affaibli par l'inquiétude puis par le soulagement, jusqu'à le pervertir. Sous les yeux terrifiés et incrédules de Mitch et Abraham, ceux de la Bête devant eux, dorés et à la pupille parfaitement ronde, commencèrent à couler, comme de la peinture, la pupille se dilatant soudainement et sensiblement.

Et tout à coup, elle ne voyait plus qu'une chose. Des humains. Non plus des amis, ou même seulement des collègues. Non, seulement des humains. De la viande. Et après cette course, elle avait un peu faim. Elle se mit à grogner dans leur direction, inclinant la tête et s'approchant lentement, forçant Mitch à reculer en catastrophe, avant de s'immobiliser aussi sec, terrifié par le regard couleur d'or fondu qui venait de se braquer sur lui, le clouant sur place.

Elle grogna plus fort, se dressa sur ses pattes arrières, prête à frapper des antérieures, quand un simple mot brisa l'enchantement. Ou plutôt, ce fut comme un caillou jeté dans une mare, et qui en riderait la surface paisible. Ce seul mot rompit la monotonie de sa pulsion de mort, lui rappela son statut duel : louve, mais aussi humaine, au moins en apparence.

-Niamh ? hasarda Abraham d'une voix tremblante d'incertitude.

L'immense créature face à lui ramena ses pattes contre son ventre, baissa la tête vers lui, et il crut discerner dans ses yeux distordus une étincelle de lucidité. Il se releva, lentement, et tendit une main devant lui, tandis que Mitch le regardait faire sans un mot. Lui, aurait adoré hurler au grand Noir de reculer et d'arrêter de jouer au con avec ce monstre, mais il était si terrifié qu'il avait la gorge sèche et nouée. Abraham s'approcha encore un peu de l'animal, qui le dominait de près d'un mètre et suspendit sa main devant lui.

-Niamh, c'est toi ?

Ces nouveaux mots frappèrent sur la barrière étrange qui coupait la jeune fille de sa conscience, la fragilisèrent tant qu'elle parut prête à se briser. Elle se laissa retomber sur ses quatre pattes et approcha lentement son énorme visage hybride, si proche à la fois du loup et de l'ours, de celui d'Abraham, qui tentait courageusement de cacher les tremblements incontrôlés de ses genoux. Néanmoins, il sentait que ses paroles avait un effet sur la créature, alors il tint bon. Une grosse truffe humide vint se coller contre son torse et huma profondément son odeur, tandis qu'il fichait son regard dans celui de la Bête.

Niamh renifla quelques secondes de plus Abraham, l'odeur lui rappelant désespérément quelque chose, réveillant les neurones engourdis dans son cerveau. C'était l'odeur d'un ami. Mais elle ne parvenait toujours pas à trouver le chemin du retour parmi les Hommes.

-Niamh O'Connor, tu veux bien revenir parmi nous ? demanda Abraham d'une voix douce, en osant poser sa main sur le collier de fourrure épaisse de la Bête.

La barrière vola en éclats soudainement, et la lumière se fit dans l'esprit de la jeune métamorphe. Elle sentait toujours la compulsion, prête à l'engloutir sitôt qu'elle se déconcentrerait, mais pour le moment, elle parvenait à la tenir à distance, et voyait à nouveau avec des yeux lucides. Elle papillonna des paupières, regarda autour d'elle, avisa Mitch qui ne bougeait pas d'un poil, toujours étendu par terre, et Abraham, qui se tenait face à elle, une main sur son épaule. Elle recula d'un pas, se dressa à nouveau sur ses pattes arrières, à la grande terreur du vétérinaire qui lâcha un couinement irrépressible, tandis que le grand Noir « se contentait » de reculer prestement, craignant d'avoir échoué à apaiser la créature.

Au lieu de cela, la fourrure, les crocs, les griffes et la queue se rétractèrent, la silhouette humaine prit le dessus sur celle, pataude et musculeuse, de l'hybride de Berserker et de loup, et soudain, Niam se tint devant les deux hommes, à bout de souffle, pâle comme un linge et à un cheveu de s'évanouir. La transformation en elle-même n'était pas épuisante, mais lutter ainsi contre une force aussi puissante et aussi ténébreuse au sein même de son esprit, alors que tous les nerfs de son corps, la moindre cellule, la moindre fibre d'elle-même lui hurlait de se laisser aller… ça, c'était éreintant.

Elle tomba à genoux, puis à quatre pattes, le souffle court, et sentit Abraham venir l'épauler tandis que Mitch restait à une saine distance d'elle.

-Mais bordel, c'était quoi, ça ?! glapit-il enfin.

-Ça, Mitch, je crois que c'était « la gamine perturbée », se moqua Abraham avec un grand sourire en faisant référence au qualificatif dénigrant dont il avait affublé Niamh le jour de leur rencontre à Tokyo, et constatant que la jeune fille n'était pas blessée, seulement fatiguée.

Des bruits de pas attirèrent soudain leur attention sur leur droite. Quand ils tournèrent la tête, ils furent grandement soulagés de voir que ce n'étaient que Chloé et Jackson, et pas Hartley qui revenait à la charge avec sa meute.

-Ils sont là ! s'exclama Chloé, le souffle court.

-Abe ! lança Jackson en se précipitant vers Mitch et son ami, tous deux encore tremblants de leur confrontation avec la Bête.

-Niamh vous a trouvés, on dirait… souffla la française en regardant la métamorphe dodeliner de la tête.

-Un peu qu'elle nous a trouvés, elle a failli nous bouffer, oui ! beugla Mitch, toujours terrifié et refusant de s'approcher.

-C'était pas sa faute, la défendit immédiatement Abraham. Elle nous avait prévenus que c'était dangereux. Seulement, aucun d'entre nous n'a voulu la croire.

Un silence embarrassé tomba sur le groupe quelques instants avant que Chloé décide de reprendre la parole.

-Un détenu s'est échappé de la prison, on pense qu'il pourrait être dans cette forêt.

Abraham jeta un regard à Mitch, qui regarda ailleurs, incapable d'affronter le grand Noir après ce qu'il venait de réussir avec Niamh.

-Oui, on vient de le voir, à l'instant, répondit ce dernier.

-Il est parti par où ? s'enquit immédiatement Jackson, pressé d'en découdre.

-Non, c'est trop dangereux, le raisonna l'agent de la DGSE. Je contacte le shérif adjoint. En plus, je doute qu'on aille bien loin avec elle dans cet état, ajouta-t-elle en désignant du menton la métamorphe qui avait fini par s'endormir, épuisée.

-Mais il faut qu'on parle à Hartley, il a pas dû aller bien loin !

-Laissez la police faire son job, insista Chloé. Quand ils l'auront capturé, je m'arrangerai pour qu'on puisse le voir. En attendant, on a un loup à rapporter à l'hôtel, et une… métamorphe… à soigner.

-Avec l'arrivée d'Hartley et sa meute, on n'a rien pu attraper, marmotta Abraham, navré d'avoir échoué.

-Il y en a un deux-cents mètres plus bas, un chasseur l'a blessé, annonça Jackson.

-Allons-y, les pressa Mitch, déjà parti et laissant les autres se débrouiller avec Niamh.

Abraham, de loin le plus fort de l'équipe, se chargea de porter la jeune fille, la tenant dans ses bras comme si elle avait été en sucre et susceptible de se briser au moindre mouvement de travers, alors que très clairement, tous étaient maintenant au courant de la véracité de son histoire et aucun ne doutait plus de sa résistance.


	6. Chapter 6 : The experiment

**Sorry for the late u_u (almost a week, holy shit) I'm moving from my parent's to my own appartment, and it takes some time to transfer all my belongings... Plus, we had to repaint all the walls and bleach all the paving, for it was way to dirty...**

 **And, thursday, I'll be back to school, so I'll have less time to write, so I'll interspace the updates of the story. So if there's still some people to read it, sorry in advance ^^'**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 6**

She was having a bad sleep, and the regular bumpings of the car, shaking her in all directions, didn't help her sleep better. Idly grumbling, she slighty opened her eyes and found herself sat at the front of the SUV, her belt cautiously buckled up. She blinked a few times, dazzled by the light widely entering the vehicle, and she grunted in discomfort. Her every bone was painful and a big headache rounded her temples. She sighed longly through her nose and closed her eyes, trying to wash away the pain by breathing deeply.

"You okay ?" Abraham asked, glancing at her.

Slowly, still unable to focus with her eyes, Niamh turned towards him. He was driving carefully, his gaze fixed on the road, but he seemed anyway ready to give her all his attention if she needed it. She closed her eyes again and inhaled deeply. In the car, she could smell only the odour of Abraham, of the wounded wolf and hers, and she could detect Mitch's too, more diffusely, for he traveled in the SUV the day before and during their way to the forest in the morning.

"I feel like I've been beaten up by a bear…" she grunted in reply to the black guy as she opened her eyes.

She was starting to see a little better, the shapes weren't as vague and blurred, and the sounds weren't as loud and shrill in her ears. Abraham slightly laughed, amused and released to see she was fine.

"Where are the others ?"

"Mitch refused to come with us in the SUV, not after… not after what happened in the woods. Jackson and Chloé found us only a few seconds after you turned human again. We took the wolf you found by coming to us, and we got back in the cars. We're going back to the hotel."

Still a little stunned, she leaned her head against the window and looked at the landscape quickly passing by, outside, the trees replaced by the first houses since a few minutes. They would soon arrive, maybe in twenty minutes, if the traffic was favorable to them. Quickly, she remembered the events of the forest, she remembered this terror who took her, thinking of the possibility that Hartley could harm her two friends. Her friends… Her _friends_. When this thought hit her, she felt herself pale and endured a pressure drop that made her loose her balance, though she was sitting.

"Abraham…"

"You can call me Abe, if you want", he said with a comforting smile.

"Abe, I smelled the scent of a pack, back there… I was afraid for you. I thought it would attack you, gut you, just like with the convicts…" she whispered quietly.

He sensed the retrospective fear of the girl, and freed his right hand to put it on her shoulder.

"I've never felt this for humans. Almost. Before I joined you, when Alves found me, I had just killed a mad dog that attacked a friend of mine with his pack. Only this other human succeeded to evoke within me what resembles the most to… what one feels towards another member of the pack. I don't know the matching word, in human language…"

Abraham remained silent for a long time, focused on the road. He didn't really know how to process this information.

"I wasn't expecting to… feel this kind of emotions towards humans. But it happened anyway. So I wanted you to know it. All of you. Even if it's only been two days that we know each other, I think that I begin to consider you as members of the pack. Slowly, some of you more than others… but bonds form. When we'll get to the hotel, when we'll be all together, we'll need to have a conversation."

The tall black man silently nodded, focused on the road and his driving. Himself was having a hard time processing what he witnessed. A girl who could transform into an animal ? Into a strange mix of wolf and bear, with a huge hunger and the fangs needed to apease it ? Impossible, he used to think a few hours ago. And now, he was chatting with her after witnessing this miracle.

When they arrived in sight of the hotel, Niamh was almost healed, and when Abraham parked the car in the undergroung parking, she was able to stand on her legs without trembling nor having the feeling she would collapse to the ground. She laboriously got out of the car, still a little shaken by her inner struggle, and helped Abraham to unfold a stretcher to transport the wounded wolf. It was slightly complicated managing to take the wolf to their hotel room without anyone noticing it, but they made it.

They laid the wolf on one of the beds, Niamh's, who volunteered to sacrifice herself and sleep on the armchair next night. Mitch and Jackson joined them for the surgery of the wolf and remove the bullet perforating his flank. Quickly, the vet bandaged the wound of the animal, after sampling some blood. After the surgery, Niamh realized that her theory was collapsing : it wasn't a metamorph, only a simple wolf. But… it acted weirdly. And consequently, it questionned her whole theory about Hartley's pack and Hartley himself. So they had a pack of ordinary wolves, though very agressive, who helped a human escape a prison and that were submissive towards him as an alpha. Two possibilities then : either those wolves had a grain, or Hartley was a metamorph, in accordance with a previous hypothesis of Niamh's, which explained the relative control he had over a pack of animal wolves. On the other side, she had never heard of packs that would submit to a metamorph's commandment, provided that it was even possible…

Mitch, during the whole time the surgery took, never stopped to sway between the absolute refuse to look at her and the irresistible temptation to glance discreetly at her. Jackson stayed mute the whole time, but Abraham tried to talk with her a few times, to no avail. She felt way to intensely the tension separating them, after the forest incident.

"Well, we only have to wait for Chloé's return, with the battery, now, and we'll start the experiment", Mitch finally said, agitating a glass full with the wolf's blood.

"Until that, I think we should have a small chat", Jackson announced, turning his gaze towards Niamh. "You have things to tell us, right ?"

Niamh, nauseous because of the despicable smell of the wolf's wound, was sitting in the armchair , arms crossed on her chest and legs folded against her. She was not really certain it was a good idea to bring up the topic now, as they were all so tensed.

"Wouldn't it be better to wait for everybody to be here ? I'd like to tell this story only once, if possible. And… honestly, I don't think you're ready to hear the truth for now."

"Not ready ?" Mitch cursed. "Not ready ?! You made your show in the forest, you barely ate both of Abe and I, and all you say is we aren't ready for the truth ?"

"Indeed, and this wonderful demonstration of calm and self control invites me to comfort myself in this idea", she retorted sarcastically.

At this moment, listening closely, she detected the sound of the elevator ascending to their floor. And she also capted the conversation Chloé was having, though it was muffled by the distance and the parasite noises around. She stood up from her seat, copiously ignoring Mitch, who was trying to catch her attention for her to come back and tell her story, and she opened the door just as the DGSE agent was about to do it. She looked rather surprised, but she thanked her anyway and entered the room.

"Look, who is this agent Shafer you talked to in the elevator ?" the metamorph asked with curiosity.

Chloé put the battery on the desk on the vet's demand, and turned towards the girl.

"Shit, you can hear that far ?"

Niamh shrugged, indifferent.

"Humans speak loudly, it's not a real challenge to spy on their conversations. So ?"

"He is FBI, and he knows we hide things from him, about the prison and Hartley, but I don't plan on informing him. We'll have to be cautious, he sticks to his lead like a dog to his bone", the blonde grumbled.

She turned towards Abe and Jackson, and gestured to the wolf with a wide movement of her hand, and, slightly out of breath after she carried the battery at arm's length for so long.

"Is the wolf gonna be okay ?"

Jackson gestured her to come closer and showed her the bandage, which he pushed aside to show her the wound.

"He'll be fine. Except for this. When we opened the wound to remove the bullet…"

The French woman frowned and put her hand on her mouth, sickened by the disgusting smell that leaked out of the bandage and the wound. Behind her, still in front of the entrance door, Niamh had a violent nausea and immediately ran to the toilets, closing the door behind her. After she threw up and flushed what she made, she got out of the room, an upset look on her face and paler than before.

"If you could just stop doing that, it would be great. Otherwise, I'm leaving, I'll wait for Jamie at the reception", she grumbled, glancing a murderous look at Jackson.

"Yeah, okay, sorry…"

"That's awful. What is it that stinks like that ?" Chloé asked, still not recovering from her disgust.

"Sometimes, infected blood can have an off smell", the zoologist explained.

"Yeah, but this wound is fresh !"

"Which means he was already infected", Mitch announced, looking at Chloé, but carefully avoiding Niamh's eyes. "My guess is bacteria. That's the most likely culprit anyway."

"And it also means that we have found what was responsible for the wolves' aggressive", Jackson basked with a pensive look on his face.

"The bacteria ?" Chloé asked, curious.

After all, her specialty was to hunt down human terrorists, not animal biology at all, and she was as lost as Jamie, Abraham or Niamh.

"Possibly. Wanna help out ? Come here", the vet ordered, handing her the glass full of blood and the dropper. "That's the wolf's blood. Just keep stirring that, don't let it thicken."

With a grimace of disgust, Chloé obeyed, but resumed to the conversation. She sill didn't have any explanation after all, and she still wondered about the aim of the task Mitch gave her earlier.

"Okay, but what does this have to do with me pulling the battery out of the rental car ?"

Someone knocked the door, and everyone froze of anxiety and surprise. A voice sounded behind the door "room service !", and the occupants of the room relaxed slightly. Abraham moved in front of the bed to hide the laid wolf from the door, and Niamh, willing to go away from the poor wounded beast and its stench, volunteered to open to the man. She pushed the handle and pulled the door. In the corridor, a young coated man handed her two coconuts, a frustrated look on his face.

"Hey I had to go over to the market to get this for you. I hope I didn't do that for nothing", he growled.

Niamh shot him a smile full of white teeth that surprised him momentarily, just enough for Niamh to grab the fruits.

"You wanna in ? The sacrifice is about to begin", she whispered with a conspirational tone.

"The... The _what_ ?"

"The sacrifice", she repeated just like he was stupid. "Like that..."

She put her wrist to her mouth and bit it to blood, terrifying the poor man who ran away full speed.

"Don't forget : Glory to Satan !" she threw at him loudly with a grin.

Reentering the room, she let out her true first laugh since she had left Richard, two days ago. Two days… It seemed like an eternity to her… When she returned with the others, they looked at her with shocked wide eyes.

"What the hell, Niamh ?" Jackson said in a breath.

"Oh, come on ! It's okay, he's gone, and he'll never set foot here again", the girl defended herself, her good mood already gone. "Here, Mitch, your coconuts".

Without thanking her, the vet grabbed the fruits and tried to open them to gather the milk inside to finalize his experiment montage. While he was wading to pierce a hole in one of the nuts, Niamh licked distractly the blood on her arm, patiently waiting for the wound to heal.

"Niamh, what happened to your arm ?" exclaimed Chloé, only noticing now the live bite.

The others turned their gazes at her, who stopped in her movement, her tongue still stuck to her skin.

"What, this ? It's nothing, it will be healed within two hours", she played down.

"No, it is _not_ nothing", Jackson refused. "You're _bleeding_ , and it could get infected."

She rolled her eyes to the skies, really annoyed.

"I have nothing ! You'd better focus on Mitch's experiment, _this_ is important. I know my limits, and this is only a little bite. And honnestly, the way it helped me making run away that poor man, it was totally worth it !" she sneered with a grim smile before starting to lick her wound again, slowly drying up the blood.

Mitch, by the way, just finished to set the montage, and he only had to realize the experiment itself. He turned towards the rest of the group, still avoiding to cross eyes with Niamh, and explained the principle of the experiment.

"You're ready, everybody's listening ? Good. Think of the coffee pot as the wolf's brain. Coconut water is chemically similar to the cerebrospinal fluid that flows through and around the brain. So…" he started before dropping a few drops of the wolf's blood in the coffee pot. "… if our bacteria causes a reaction in our coffee pot brain, then there's a good chance it's responsible for the wolves' abnormal behavior."

"So, what are we looking for ? What happens to prove that you're right ?" Jackson asked with a doubtful voice.

"Well, the current from the battery should stimulate the growth of the bacteria. We're looking for some evidence that the wolf's brain was agitated. For instance… if the liquid starts to bubble up a little bit", Mith replied, almost interrogatively, inspiring a very relative confidence in his experiment to the others.

"How long ?" asked Chloé, preoccupied.

Shafer was getting closer to them, and she had absolutely no desire that the experiment took long enough so they could put their hooks on them.

"I don't know. A couple hours ?" Mitch supposed, leaning on an elbow on the desk, looking at his assistance.

Just as he finished his sentence, the coffee pot started to bubble, first with tiny and spaced blops, then with wide and close bubbles, while the opaque and whitish coconut water was tainting with pink-red as the coffee pot was starting to shake under the pressure.

"Or a couple of seconds", Abraham rectified with both anxiety and irony.

The container was seething more and more, until the evidence hit the five recruits of Delavane : it was about to explode.

"Oh no."

All jumped to cover, to protect themselves from the glass shards that would spray on them. Niamh hid in the entrance corridor, protected by a wall, Abraham hid in the next room, using the interconnecting door, Mitch threw himself behind the bed, and Chloé and Jackson found themselves lying on top of each other to escape the explosion. After the coffee pot exploded and ejected pieces of glass all over the place, all discreetly glanced at the table where they made their experiment, and found out it was covered up in bloody coconut water and glass shards that will surely upset the housekeepers.

"Yeah, I'd say we're onto something", Mitch said, dazzled by the discovery and the unexpected result of the experiment.

"No shit, Sherlock ?" Niamh taunted with a biting sarcasm.

The room was in a terrible state, glass pieces scattered everywhere on the carpet and floor, as the coconut water spilled on the floor, soaking the parquet. Laborioulsy, everyone extricated from their hiding places, and began to prepare their stuff to tidy up the room. As a solution, they'll just go to the second room, that they didn't ruin, and they share it until they get another. They also transferred the wolf on Mitch's bed, who complained about that, unhappy to be deprived of his sleeping place, and they quickly cleaned the battlefield their room had become.

Once the biggest part of the work was done, they moved to the second room and called the lobby to report the damage the room took. Even if they had more or less made up for the damage, Jackson, who opened the door to the housekeeper responsible for tidy up the room, had a really hard time being shout at by the woman. He had to present his apologies for a good dozen minutes before he could retire in the second room. It was pitch dark when then finally could relax and rest.

"Okay, well, aside from a destroyed hotel room, we did good work here", Chloé announced with a satisfied look.

Abraham showed his assentment, as well as Jackson, but their vet didn't seem to agree with them.

"Little early for champagne, don't you think ? We don't know anything about that bacteria", he stopped them with his cynicism.

Without being destabilized, the black man snapped back at him, but with a compliant tone :

"Well, we've been here for two days, and already we've discovered unusual bacteria inside a wolf that's behaving abnormally. That's an accomplishment."

With a mocking grin and a hot chocolate in her hands, Niamh raised a finger to arbitrate the chat.

"Abe scores one point", she awarded, sneering.

"But just because it's inside the wolf doesn't mean that it's inside the lions or the cats or the bats", the zoologist tempered to ease the tensions.

"Or inside _me_. Maybe we should test my blood too, just to be sure, shouldn't we ?" Niamh sugested.

Except that after the events of the forest, noone was really eager to analyze the metamorph's blood. And Mitch in particular, made everyone notice it with his usual agressivity and sarcasm.

"The thing is that, now, you're not aggressive, so it would be reasonnable to conclude, without any analyze though, that something changes in your body when you transform. If you bear this bacteria, it doesn't affect you when you're human. So, either the bacteria is in your blood when you are on your human form…" he grumbled, until he began to relax and let himself get carried away by his passion and he spoke more freely. "… or it _is_ , but it doesn't affect human behavior. It would be logic, though, because these wolves have eaten something that infected them, but so did we, surely, eat infected livestock, and we still aren't eating each other… At least, for some of us it's true…"

He shot a grim glance at Niamh, and she sighed with annoyance. Would he ever be able to overcome this accident ? Of course, she understood he could have been shocked, terrified, and that he would not be really eager to renew the experience of meeting her wolf, but he was starting to upset her. God damn it, she _did_ warn them about her relative control on her inner animal !

"And, in that case, we should find what makes that humans aren't affected by this bacteria. The other hypothesis, that about the disappearance of the bacteria from your blood, though it is incredible, because it would suppose that the bacteria completely disappeared… or something inhibits it, an antibody, a protein, an enzyme, something present in your wolf's blood. But in that case, it implies that we would have to sample you while you're in your animal form, and this is totally out of the question, it is way too dangerous !"

Though she agreed with the vet on that last point, Niamh was about to retort, to defend herself, when someone knocked the door. A tense silence fell on the group, and everyone glared anxiously at each other, before Chloé decided to open.

"Hey. Are you looking for me ?" she asked to the FBI agent, Shafer, standing in the corridor.

"What are you and your team up to ?" he retorted with an abrupt tone, hands in pockets and his eyes clearly not friendly.

"What do you mean ?"

"Before you lay out your baloney and your balderdash, you should know that Deputy Kraft is on his way over to question you. He believes one of your team removed evidence from Evan Lee Hartley's cell."

In the room, the others members of the team looked at each other in distress, suddenly deadly aware that Jamie had fucked something up.

"Deputy Kraft is wrong", they heard Chloé answer.

"No kidding ?" he let out with a weary and disillusionned tone. "But I thought I'd let you know, in the spirit of interangecy cooperation."

After this, he walked away, having planted the seed of panick within the heart of the group. Chloé waited for him to disappear at the corner of the corridor, and returned quickly inside the room to ring the alarm. All started to stuff their belongings, shoving their clothes, books and socks in their bags carelessly.

"How long do we have ?" Jackson asked loudly, talking about the sherif.

"I don't know", Chloé answered, gathering her stuff.

"And the wolf ? What about him ?" Niamh stated by closing her bag, having far less belongings to take than the others, and so she already had finished.

If someone announced that they'll have to kill the wolf because he was too hurt, she was going to tear somebody's throat off.

"I'm on with Animal Control right now.

It could mean everything and its contrary, that the wolf would be healed and freed, or that he would be killed because too wounded, but its was still better than the certainty he would die.

The ring of Chloé's phone suddenly sounded in the small place where the team was working around, and she almost immediately answered.

"I hit the mother lode", Jamie swang on the phone.

Listening closely, Niamh managed to hear distinctely the conversation.

"Don't come back to the hotel", Chloé warned her with a low and pressing voice. "We'll meet you at the car rental agency."

They finished to pack their stuff and left the hotel. When they arrived at the parking, after a silent drive, they were all impatient to find out what Jamie found that seemed so wonderful. They all got out of the SUV, which they were all piled up in, and met with the reporter, holding a small, spoilt and tatty book, just like it had been opened thousands of times. As a precaution, fearing that Shafer would be around, Niamh listened closely and deeply inhaled the cold air of the parking, looking for a suspicous smell. She caught the puzzled eye of Jamie, who soon focused again on Chloé, very impatient to tell what she found. However, she remembered the warning of the DGSE agent and wanted to know more.

"What happened ?" she urged her.

"Deputy Kraft didn't find Evan Lee Hartley and is looking for someone to blame", the blonde explained.

Jamie handed her the small book she had found. It was a Bible in a terrible shape, which had a strong smell of old paper and was stained with unknown matter.

"I found this", she said. "It's his… Hartley's. It was in his cell. The guy underligned _every_ reference to animals in the Bible. I mean, every single one."

"Well he was on death row. Bible comes in very handy on death row", Mitch scoffed with contempt.

Niamh shot him an annoyed glance, starting to get really fed-up with his endless grumpiness.

"Oh, I also found this", Jamie said, pulling out of the last page of the Bible a photo.

Two men were standed side by side, the left one was older than the right one, and the first one was strangely familiar to the young metamorph.

"That's Evan Lee Hartley", Chloé declared, pointing the right man, than handing the photo to Jackson. "What is it, Jackson ? Do you recognize the other guy ?"

"That's my father", the zoologist let out with bitterness.

"Your father ?" Niamh repeated with disbelief.

"Why, do you know him tool ?" Chloé asked, curious.

The girl nodded.

"Yes. Once, he came on my uncle's territory. He had noticed an unusual behavior of the wolves in the rigion. Obviously, he didn't have any knowledge of the existence of the metamorphs, but it caught his eye anyway. He almost have died once", she added for Jackson. "He almost surprised a transformation, but we managed to keep things under control."

"How long ago was it ?" Jackson urged her.

"It was ten years ago, I'd say… I was still a little girl, and I didn't really pay attention to what he said, as it was quite complex and technical, but I remember the fear in my mother's voice when she told me about him. I also remember he tried to coax my uncle, so he could stay longer and continue his track of those weird wolves, but my uncle refused, categorically and without any courtesy. I don't know what our alpha said to him or what he threatened him with, but he never set foot on our territory again."

"Ok, I suggest that we go have a drink", Abraham said after un moment of silence. "We need to brief Jamie about something."

"About what ?" she replied.

"Yes. Some… _things_ have happened during your absence…" Chloé said, glancing an eloquent look at Niamh.

Said girl bit her lip, looking away with an annoyed sigh. Jamie for her part, let her eyes fly from one to another with incomprehension.

"What do you mean ?" she said, frowning.

"She means that she told us the truth, and now she must tell us about more", Mitch concluded with an aggressive tone.

"Seriously ? Now you believe it ? And what about me, are you going to believe me too, about Reiden Global ?

Seen their faces, the reporter understood that she wasn't finished with convincing them. Though a wolf-girl was far more unlikely to exist than her theory, the others still preferred it than her complotist hypothesis. With a death rattle, she followed the others when then got in the car.

 **And here's the chapter 6, hope you liked it :)**

 **Please, leave a comment/review/whatever you want :)**

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 **Désolée pour le retard u_u (presque une semaine, bordel) je suis en plein déménagement vers mon propre appartement, et ça prend un peu de temps de transférer toutes mes affaires... En plus on a dû repeindre tous les murs et javeliser le sol, parce que c'était tout dégueu...**

 **Et jeudi je retourne à la fac, donc j'aurai moins de temps pour écrire, alors j'espacerai un peu les publications. Donc s'il y a encore des gens qui lisent, désolée d'avance ^^'**

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 **CHAPITRE 6**

Elle avait le sommeil agité, et les secousses régulières qui la faisaient brinqueballer dans tous les sens ne l'aidaient pas à dormir mieux. En grommelant paresseusement, elle entrouvrit les yeux et se découvrit assise sur le siège avant du SUV, sa ceinture soigneusement attachée. Elle cligna des paupières plusieurs fois, éblouie par la lumière qui entrait à flots dans l'habitacle, et grogna d'inconfort. Elle était pétrie de courbatures et un mal de crâne horrible lui enserrait les tempes. Elle soupira longuement par le nez en fermant les yeux, tentant d'évacuer la douleur en respirant profondément.

-Ça va ? demanda Abraham en lui jetant un coup d'œil.

Lentement, encore incapable de faire le point avec ses yeux, Niamh se tourna vers lui. Il conduisait prudemment, le regard rivé sur la route, mais paraissait prêt à lui accorder toute son attention en cas de besoin. Elle ferma les paupières et inspira profondément. Dans la voiture, elle ne sentait que l'odeur d'Abraham, du loup blessé et la sienne, et elle percevait de façon diffuse celle de Mitch, qui avait voyagé dans le SUV la veille et pendant l'aller.

-J'ai l'impression de m'être fait tabasser par un ours… maugréa-t-elle en réponse au grand Noir en rouvrant les yeux.

Elle commençait à mieux y voir, les formes n'étaient plus aussi floues, et les sons n'étaient plus aussi bruyants et stridents dans ses oreilles. Abraham rit doucement, amusé et rassuré de voir qu'elle allait bien.

-Où sont les autres ?

-Mitch a refusé de venir avec nous dans le SUV, pas après… pas après ce qui s'est passé dans la forêt. Jackson et Chloé nous ont trouvés à peine quelques secondes après que tu es redevenue humaine. On a récupéré le loup que vous aviez trouvé en venant nous chercher, et on est remontés en voiture. On retourne à l'hôtel.

Encore un peu vasouilleuse, elle appuya la tête contre la vitre et regarda le paysage défiler rapidement à l'extérieur, les arbres ayant laissé place depuis un moment aux premières habitations de banlieue. Ils seraient bientôt arrivés à l'hôtel, peut-être d'ici vingt minutes, si la circulation leur était favorable. Rapidement, elle se remémora les événements de la forêt, elle se rappela cette terreur qui l'avait saisie en pensant à la possibilité qu'Hartley s'en prenne à ses deux amis. Ses amis… Ses _amis_. Quand cette pensée la percuta, elle se sentit pâlir et essuya une chute de pression qui lui fit perdre l'équilibre, bien qu'elle fût assise.

-Abraham…

-Tu peux m'appeler Abe, si tu veux, lui dit-il avec un sourire rassurant.

-Abe, j'ai senti l'odeur d'une meute, là-bas… J'ai eu peur pour vous. J'ai cru qu'elle allait vous attaquer, vous étriper, comme avec les détenus… souffla-t-elle à mi-voix.

Il perçut la peur rétrospective de la jeune fille et libéra sa main droite du volant pour venir la poser sur son épaule.

-Je n'avais jamais ressenti ça pour des humains. Ou presque. Avant de vous rejoindre, quand Alves m'a trouvée, je venais de tuer un chien fou qui avait attaqué un ami avec sa meute. Seul cet autre humain avait su susciter chez moi ce qui s'apparente le plus à… ce que l'on ressent vis-à-vis d'un autre membre de la meute. Je ne connais pas de mot correspondant, dans le langage humain…

Abraham garda longtemps le silence, concentré sur la route. Il ne savait pas trop comment traiter l'information.

-Je ne m'attendais pas à… éprouver ce genre d'émotions pour des humains. Mais c'est arrivé. Alors je tenais à vous le faire savoir. A tous. Même si ça ne fait que deux jours qu'on se connaît, je crois que je commence à vous considérer comme des membres de la meute. Lentement, certains plus que d'autres… Mais les liens se forment. En arrivant à l'hôtel, quand on sera tous ensemble, il faudra qu'on ait une conversation.

Le grand Noir acquiesça silencieusement, focalisé sur la route et sa conduite. Lui-même avait encore du mal à intégrer ce à quoi il avait assisté. Une fille qui se transformait en animal ? En une espèce de mélange étrange de loup et d'ours, avec un solide appétit et les crocs nécessaires pour l'apaiser ? Impossible pensait-il quelques heures plus tôt. Et voilà qu'il discutait avec elle après avoir été témoin de ce miracle.

Quand ils arrivèrent en vue de l'hôtel, Niamh était presque complètement remise, et quand Abraham gara la voiture dans le parking souterrain, elle était en mesure de tenir sur ses jambes sans trembler ni avoir l'impression de se casser la gueule. Elle sortit cependant laborieusement de la voiture, encore un peu secouée de sa lutte intérieure, et aida Abraham à déplier une civière pour transporter le loup blessé. Ce fut un peu compliqué de parvenir à acheminer l'animal jusqu'à la chambre d'hôtel sans que personne ne s'en rende compte, mais ils y parvinrent, tant bien que mal.

Ils allongèrent le loup sur l'un des lits, celui de Niamh, qui se porta volontaire pour se sacrifier et dormir sur le fauteuil la nuit prochaine. Mitch et Jackson les rejoignirent pour opérer le loup et lui retirer la balle qui lui meurtrissait le flanc. Rapidement, le vétérinaire banda la blessure de l'animal après avoir prélevé un peu de son sang. Après cette opération, Niamh se rendit compte que toute sa théorie tombait à l'eau : ce n'était pas un métamorphe, juste un loup normal. Seulement… il agissait bizarrement. Et par conséquent, cela remettait également en cause sa théorie de la meute d'Hartley et sa théorie sur Hartley lui-même. On avait donc une meute de loups ordinaires quoique très agressifs qui faisaient évader un humain d'une prison, et se soumettaient à lui comme devant un alpha. Deux options : soit ces loups avaient un grain, soit Hartley était un métamorphe, conformément à l'une des précédentes hypothèses de Niamh, d'où le contrôle relatif qu'il avait sur une meute de loups animaux. D'un autre côté, elle n'avait jamais entendu parler de meutes animales qui se soumettraient au commandement d'un métamorphe, pour peu que ce soit possible…

Mitch, pendant tout le temps de l'opération du loup, n'avait cessé d'osciller entre le refus absolu de la regarder et la tentation irrésistible de lui jeter des regards discrets. Jackson resta muet tout du long, mais Abraham essaya d'engager la discussion avec elle à plusieurs reprises, en vain. Elle ressentait trop intensément la tension qui les séparait tous, suite à l'incident de la forêt.

-Bon, il n'y a plus qu'à attendre le retour de Chloé avec la batterie, et on pourra lancer l'expérience, lâcha enfin Mitch en touillant avec une pipette le verre plein de sang de loup.

-En attendant… je crois qu'on devrait discuter un peu, annonça Jackson en tournant son regard vers Niamh. Tu as des choses à nous dire, non ?

Niamh, nauséeuse à cause de l'odeur ignoble de la blessure du loup, était assise dans un fauteuil, les bras croisés contre le ventre et les jambes repliées contre elle. Elle n'était pas certaine que ce soit une bonne idée d'aborder le sujet maintenant, alors que tous étaient encore autant à cran.

-Ce serait pas mieux d'attendre que tout le monde soit là ? J'aimerais ne raconter l'histoire qu'une fois, si possible. Et… honnêtement, je ne crois pas que vous soyez prêts pour entendre la vérité tout de suite.

-Pas prêts ? pesta Mitch. Pas prêts ?! Tu nous fais tout un numéro dans les bois, tu manques de nous bouffer, Abe et moi, et tout ce que tu trouves à dire, c'est qu'on n'est pas prêts pour la vérité ?

-En effet, et cette démonstration de maîtrise de soi et de calme m'invite à me conforter dans cette idée, répliqua-t-elle sarcastiquement.

A ce moment-là, en tendant l'oreille, elle perçut le bruit de l'ascenseur qui montait à leur étage. Et elle intercepta également la conversation de Chloé, bien qu'elle soit un peu étouffée par la distance et les bruits parasites alentours. Elle se leva de son fauteuil, ignorant Mitch qui essayait d'attirer son attention pour qu'elle revienne et raconte son histoire, et ouvrit la porte juste alors que l'agent de la DGSE allait le faire. Celle-ci eut l'air un peu surprise, mais la remercia et entra dans la chambre.

-Dites, c'est qui cet agent Shafer avec qui vous parliez dans l'ascenseur ? demanda la métamorphe avec curiosité.

Chloé posa la batterie sur le bureau à la demande du vétérinaire, et se tourna vers la jeune fille.

-Merde, mais t'entends aussi loin que ça ?

Niamh haussa les épaules, l'air indifférente.

-Les humains parlent fort, c'est pas bien compliqué d'espionner leurs conversations. Alors ?

-Il est du FBI, et il sait qu'on cache des choses au sujet de la prison et de Hartley, mais je ne compte pas l'informer. Par contre, faudra faire attention, il s'accroche à sa piste comme un chien à son os, maugréa la blonde.

Elle se tourna vers Abe et Jackson, et leur désigna le loup d'un mouvement ample de la main, et un peu essoufflée d'avoir porté à bout de bras la batterie pendant longtemps.

-Le loup va s'en sortir ?

Jackson lui fit signe de s'approcher et lui montra le bandage, qu'il écarta pour montrer la blessure.

-Oui, il a quand même une sacrée blessure. On a écarté l'entaille pour retirer la balle…

La française fronça le nez et porta une main devant sa bouche, écœurée par l'odeur abominable qui s'échappa du pansement et de la plaie. Derrière elle, toujours devant la porte d'entrée, Niamh eut un haut-le-cœur violent et fila immédiatement aux toilettes en fermant la porte derrière elle. Après avoir rendu ses tripes et tiré la chasse, elle ressortit de la pièce, l'air passablement énervé et plus pâle qu'à l'entrée.

-Si vous pouviez éviter de faire ça, ce serait cool. Sinon je me casse, j'irai attendre Jamie à la réception, grommela-t-elle en jetant un regard assassin à Jackson.

-Ouais, c'est bon, désolé…

-C'est monstrueux, qu'est-ce qui pue comme ça ? demanda Chloé, toujours pas remise de son dégoût.

-Ça peut arriver que le sang infecté ait ce genre d'odeur… nauséabonde, expliqua le zoologue.

-Oui, mais cette blessure est toute récente, il a été blessé seulement aujourd'hui !

-Ça veut dire qu'il était déjà infecté, annonça Mitch en regardant Chloé, mais en évitant soigneusement de croiser le regard de la métamorphe. Je pencherais pour une bactérie, c'est l'hypothèse la plus vraisemblable.

-Et ça signifie qu'on a peut-être trouvé ce qui provoque le comportement agressif des loups, se réjouit Jackson avec une mine songeuse.

-Une bactérie ? demanda Chloé, curieuse.

Après tout, sa spécialité à elle, c'était la traque de terroristes humains, pas du tout la biologie animale, et elle était à peu près aussi perdue que Jamie, Abraham et Niamh.

-Oui, c'est possible. Vous voulez m'aider ? Venez par ici, lui ordonna-t-il en lui confiant le verre de sang et la pipette. C'est le sang du loup, il ne doit pas coaguler : continuez de tourner.

Avec une grimace de dégoût, Chloé s'exécuta, mais reprit la discussion. Elle n'avait toujours pas eu d'explication, après tout, et elle se demandait encore le but de la tâche qu'il lui avait confiée tout à l'heure.

-D'accord, mais… pourquoi est-ce que vous m'avez demandé de vous rapporter la batterie de la voiture ?

Quelques coups furent soudain frappés à la porte, figeant tout le monde d'anxiété et de surprise. Une voix s'exclama de l'autre côté de la porte « service d'étage ! » et les occupants de la chambre se détendirent légèrement. Abraham se plaça devant le lit de façon à dissimuler le loup qui y était allongé, et Niamh, désireuse de s'éloigner ne serait-ce qu'un peu de la pauvre bête blessée et de son odeur pestilentielle, se porta volontaire pour aller ouvrir. Elle actionna la poignée et tira le battant vers elle. Dans le couloir, un jeune homme un peu enrobé lui tendit deux noix de coco, un air agacé sur le visage.

-J'ai dû aller au marché pour vous trouver ces deux noix de coco, j'espère que j'ai pas fait tout ça pour des clous, râla-t-il.

Niamh lui décocha un sourire plein de dents blanches qui le surprit momentanément, juste assez pour qu'elle s'empare des fruits.

-Vous voulez entrer ? Le sacrifice va bientôt commencer, lui souffla-t-elle sur un ton de conspiratrice.

-Le… Le quoi ?

-Le sacrifice, répéta-t-elle comme s'il était stupide. Comme ça…

Elle porta son poignet à sa bouche et se mordit jusqu'au sang, terrifiant proprement le pauvre homme qui prit ses jambes à son cou.

-N'oubliez pas : gloire à Satan ! lança-t-elle à travers le couloir avec le sourire.

En rentrant dans la chambre, elle laissa échapper son premier vrai rire depuis qu'elle avait quitté Richard, deux jours auparavant. Deux jours… Cela lui paraissait déjà être une éternité… Quand elle retourna avec les autres, ils la regardèrent tous avec de grand yeux ronds choqués.

-Mais qu'est-ce qui t'a pris ? fit Jackson dans un souffle.

-Oh, ça va ! C'est bon, il est parti, et il remettra pas les pieds ici de si tôt, se défendit la jeune fille, sa bonne humeur déjà envolée. Tenez, Mitch, vos noix de coco.

Sans la remercier, le vétérinaire s'empara des fruits et entreprit de les ouvrir et d'en faire couler le lait pour finaliser le montage de son expérience. Pendant qu'il s'échinait à percer un trou dans une des noix, Niamh lapa distraitement le sang sur son bras, attendant patiemment que la blessure commence à cicatriser.

-Niamh, qu'est-ce que tu t'es fait au bras ? s'exclama alors Chloé, remarquant seulement à l'instant la morsure à vif.

Les autres tournèrent leur regard vers elle, qui s'arrêta en plein mouvement, la langue encore appuyée contre sa peau.

-Quoi, ça ? C'est rien, ce sera résorbé dans deux heures, dédramatisa-t-elle.

-Non, c'est pas rien, refusa Jackson. Tu saignes, et ça peut s'infecter.

Elle leva les yeux au ciel, agacée.

-J'ai rien ! Concentrez-vous plutôt sur l'expérience de Mitch, ça c'est important. Je connais mes limites, et ça c'est juste une petite morsure de rien du tout. Et franchement, vu comment elle m'a permis de faire partir en courant le garçon d'étage, elle en valait carrément le coup ! ricana-t-elle avec un mauvais sourire avant de recommencer à lécher sa blessure, tarissant petit à petit le flux de sang.

D'ailleurs, il venait de finir de mettre en place son montage, et il ne restait alors plus qu'à réaliser l'expérience en elle-même. Il se tourna vers le reste du groupe, toujours en évitant soigneusement de croiser le regard de Niamh, et leur expliqua le principe de l'expérience.

-Vous êtes prêts, tout le monde écoute ? Bien. Imaginons que la cafetière soit le cerveau du loup. Le lait de coco a une composition proche de celle du liquide céphalo-rachidien qui irrigue le cerveau, ce qui fait que… commença-t-il, avant de laisser tomber quelques gouttes de sang de loup dans la cafetière avec la pipette. … si notre bactérie produit une réaction dans la cafetière, il y a de fortes chances qu'elle soit responsable du comportement anormal des loups.

-Et euh… comment on le saura ? Qu'est-ce qui va nous prouver que c'est ça ? demanda Jackson d'un ton dubitatif.

-Le courant émis par la batterie stimule la prolifération de la bactérie. Ce qu'on cherche, c'est la preuve d'une agitation des fonctions cérébrales. L'un des signes serait… que le liquide se mette à faire des bulles ? fit Mitch d'un ton presque interrogatif, n'inspirant qu'une confiance toute relative en son expérience chez les autres.

-Faut attendre combien de temps ? s'enquit Chloé, l'air préoccupé.

Shafer se rapprochait d'eux à grands pas, et elle n'avait aucune envie que l'expérience dure suffisamment longtemps pour qu'il puisse leur mettre le grappin dessus.

-Je sais pas, deux petites heures ? supposa Mitch, un coude appuyé sur la table en regardant son assistance.

Juste alors qu'il terminait sa phrase, la cafetière commença à faire des bulles, d'abord petites et espacées, puis de plus en plus grosses et rapprochées, tandis que le lait de coco blanchâtre et opaque se teintait de rouge-rosé alors que la cafetière se mettait à vibrer sous la pression.

-Ou deux petites secondes, corrigea Abraham avec anxiété et ironie.

Le récipient bouillonnait de plus en plus fort, jusqu'à ce que l'évidence frappe les cinq recrues de Delavenne : il allait exploser.

-Oh non ! Attention ! s'exclama Mitch.

Tous sautèrent à couvert pour se protéger des éclats de verre qui ne manqueraient pas de les arroser. Niamh se cacha dans le couloir de l'entrée, protégée par un mur, Abraham se retrancha dans la chambre d'à côté en empruntant la porte communicante, Mitch se jeta derrière le lit, et Chloé et Jackson se retrouvèrent couché l'un sur l'autre dans leur chute pour échapper à l'explosion. Après que la cafetière eut éclaté et expulsé des morceaux de verre tous azimuts, tous jetèrent un coup d'œil discret à la table où ils avaient fait leur expérience, et la découvrirent couverte de lait de coco sanglant et de bris de verre qui donneraient du fil à retordre aux femmes de ménage.

-Je crois qu'on tient quelque chose, cette fois, fit Mitch, abasourdi par leur découverte et le caractère inattendu de la tournure de son expérience.

-Sans déconner, Sherlock ? railla Niamh avec un sarcasme mordant.

La chambre était dans un état lamentable, des éclats de verre éparpillés partout sur le tapis et le sol alors que le lait de coco gouttait par terre et imprégnait le parquet. Laborieusement, chacun s'extirpa de sa cachette et entreprit de préparer ses affaires pour changer de chambre. En somme, ils ne feraient que passer dans celle qu'ils n'avaient pas ruinée et la partageraient le temps d'en demander une autre. Ils transférèrent également le loup sur le lit de Mitch, qui râla un peu, mécontent d'être privé de son couchage, et nettoyèrent rapidement le champ de bataille qu'était devenue la seconde chambre.

Une fois le gros du travail effectué, ils migrèrent dans la deuxième chambre et appelèrent la réception pour leur signaler les dégâts qu'avait subi la chambre. Même s'ils avaient plus ou moins rattrapé les dégâts, Jackson, qui ouvrit la porte à la femme de ménage chargée de remettre la chambre en état, se fit passer un sacré savon et dut présenter ses excuses pendant dix bonnes minutes avant de pouvoir se replier dans la deuxième chambre. Il faisait nuit noire quand ils purent enfin se reposer.

-Même si on a saccagé une chambre d'hôtel, on peut dire qu'on a fait du bon travail, annonça Chloé d'un air satisfait.

Abraham manifesta son assentiment, de même que Jackson, mais leur vétérinaire ne semblait pas de cet avis.

-C'est un peu tôt pour crier victoire… On n'a pas encore identifié la bactérie, les calma-t-il avec cynisme.

Sans se laisser démonter, le grand noir répliqua du tac au tac, mais d'un ton conciliant :

-Ça fait seulement deux jours qu'on est ici, et on a déjà découvert la présence d'une bactérie dans le corps d'un loup qui présentait un comportement anormal. Je trouve que c'est déjà pas mal.

Avec un sourire narquois et un chocolat chaud entre les mains, Niamh leva un doigt pour arbitrer la discussion.

-Un point pour Abe, attribua-t-elle en ricanant.

-Oui, mais c'est pas parce que les loups sont porteurs de cette bactérie que c'est aussi le cas des lions, des chats ou des chauve-souris… tempéra le zoologue pour apaiser les tensions.

-Ou mon cas à moi. Il faudrait peut-être tester mon sang aussi, histoire d'être fixés, non ? suggéra Niamh.

Sauf qu'après l'épisode de la forêt, personne n'était bien motivé à l'idée d'analyser le sang de la jeune métamorphe. Et Mitch en particulier, le fit remarquer avec son agressivité et son sarcasme habituel.

-Le truc, c'est que là, t'es pas agressive, donc il serait raisonnable de conclure, sans analyse cependant, que quelque chose change dans ton corps quand tu te transformes. Si tu es porteuse de cette bactérie, elle ne t'affecte pas quand tu es humaine. Donc soit la bactérie n'est pas présente dans ton sang quand tu as forme humaine… grommelait-il, jusqu'à ce qu'il commence à se détendre et se laisse emporter par sa passion et parle plus librement. … soit elle l'est, mais elle n'affecte pas le comportement des humains. Cela semble logique, d'ailleurs, parce que ces loups ont mangé quelque chose qui les a infectés, mais nous aussi nous mangeons probablement du bétail infecté, et nous ne nous entre-dévorons pas… Du moins pour certains…

Il jeta un regard mauvais à Niamh, accusateur, et elle soupira d'agacement. Jamais il ne passerait à autre chose ? Certes, elle comprenait qu'il ait été choqué, terrifié, et qu'il n'ait pas particulièrement envie de renouveler l'expérience de rencontrer son loup, mais il commençait à l'agacer. Bordel, elle les avait prévenus qu'elle n'avait plus le même contrôle qu'avant sur son côté animal.

-Et dans ce cas, il faudrait trouver ce qui fait que les humains ne sont pas touchés par la bactérie. L'autre hypothèse, celle de la disparition de la bactérie dans ton sang, est assez abracadabrante, puisque cela suppose soit que la bactérie disparaisse totalement, soit qu'elle soit inhibée par quelque chose, un anticorps, une protéine, une enzyme, quelque chose présent dans le sang de ton loup. Mais dans ce cas, ça implique qu'il faille faire un prélèvement pendant que tu es louve, et ça, c'est hors de question, c'est beaucoup trop dangereux !

Bien qu'elle rejoigne le vétérinaire sur ce dernier point, Niamh s'apprêtait à répliquer, se défendre, quand quelques coups furent frappés à la porte de la chambre connectée. Un silence tendu tomba sur le groupe, et chacun échangea des regards anxieux avec les autres avant que Chloé se décide à aller ouvrir.

-Ah, vous me cherchiez, peut-être ? demanda-t-elle à l'agent du FBI, Shafer, qui se tenait dans le couloir.

-Je peux savoir ce que vous faites, vous et votre équipe ? répliqua-t-il d'un ton abrupt, les mains dans les poches avec un regard clairement pas amical.

-Comment ça ?

-Avant que vous me déversiez encore toutes vos salades… Je vous préviens que le shérif adjoint est en route, et il veut vous interroger. Il pense que l'un de vos collègues a soustrait un objet de la cellule d'Hartley.

Dans la chambre, les autres membres de l'équipe se regardèrent avec angoisse, soudain mortellement conscients que Jamie avait merdé.

-Monsieur Kraft se trompe, entendirent-ils Chloé répondre.

-Sans blague ? lâcha-t-il d'un ton las et désabusé. Bon, je voulais juste vous le dire, histoire de montrer que nos agences peuvent coopérer.

Après ça, il s'éloigna, ayant planté la graine de la panique dans le cœur du groupe. Chloé attendit qu'il ait disparu au coin du couloir pour retourner en vitesse dans la chambre et sonner le branle-bas de combat. Tous commencèrent à ranger leurs affaires à toute allure, fourrant les vêtements, cahiers et chaussettes en vrac dans leurs sacs.

-Dans combien de temps il arrive ? demanda Jackson, en parlant du shérif.

-Aucune idée, fit Chloé en rassemblant ses affaires.

-Et le loup ? Qu'est-ce qu'on en fait ? dit Niamh en refermant son sac, ayant moins d'effets personnels à ranger et ayant en conséquence déjà terminé.

Si quelqu'un annonçait qu'il fallait l'achever parce qu'il était trop mal en point, elle sentait qu'elle allait égorger quelqu'un.

-J'appelle les service vétérinaires, annonça Mitch en attrapant son téléphone.

Ça pouvait vouloir tout dire, que le loup allait être soigné et remis en liberté, ou qu'il allait être piqué parce qu'il était trop blessé, mais c'était déjà mieux que la garantie de la tuer.

La sonnerie du téléphone de Chloé retentit soudain dans la petite pièce où s'activait l'équipe, et elle décrocha immédiatement.

-J'ai trouvé du lourd, balança Jamie à l'autre bout du fil.

En tendant l'oreille, Niamh réussissait à percevoir distinctement la conversation.

-Ne repassez surtout pas à l'hôtel, la prévint Chloé d'une voix basse et pressante. Je vous rejoins dans le parking du loueur de voiture.

Ils finirent tous d'empaqueter leurs affaires et prirent le large. Quand ils arrivèrent au parking, après un trajet en silence, ils étaient tous impatients de découvrir ce qu'avait trouvé Jamie et qui paraissait si incroyable. Ils descendirent tous du SUV, dans lequel ils étaient tous entassés, et vinrent à la rencontre de la journaliste, qui tenait dans les main un petit livre abîmé et écorné, comme s'il avait été ouvert et fermé des milliers de fois. Par précaution, craignant que Shafer soit dans les environs, Niamh tendit l'oreille et huma profondément l'air froid du parking, à la recherche de la moindre odeur suspecte. Elle s'attira le regard perplexe de Jamie, mais celle-ci se concentra ensuite rapidement sur Chloé, trop impatiente de raconter ce qu'elle avait trouvé. Pour autant, elle se rappelait la mise en garde de l'agent de la DGSE et voulut en savoir plus.

-Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé ? la pressa-t-elle.

-Le shérif adjoint n'a pas retrouvé Evan Lee Hartley, et il cherche quelqu'un à qui faire porter le chapeau, expliqua la blonde.

Jamie tendit alors le petit livre qu'elle avait trouvé. C'était une Bible en mauvais état, qui sentait fort le vieux papier et qui était maculée de taches.

-J'ai trouvé ça, dit-elle. C'est à Hartley, c'était dans sa cellule. Il a souligné _toutes_ les références aux animaux dans la Bible. Aucune ne lui a échappé.

-Pas étonnant qu'il ait une Bible, on en fournit toujours une aux condamnés à mort, persifla Mitch d'un ton méprisant.

Niamh lui lança un regard agacé, elle commençait à en avoir assez de sa perpétuelle mauvaise humeur.

-J'ai aussi retrouvé ça, dit Jamie et sortant une photo de la dernière page de la Bible.

Deux hommes se tenaient côte à côte, celui de gauche était plus âgé que celui de droite, et le premier était étrangement familier à la jeune métamorphe.

-C'est Evan Lee Hartley, déclara Chloé en désignant l'homme à droite, puis en passant la photo à Jackson qui la lui demandait. Qu'est-ce qu'il y a, vous reconnaissez l'autre homme ?

-C'est mon père, lâcha le zoologue avec amertume.

-Votre père ? répéta Niamh, emplie d'incompréhension.

-Pourquoi, toi aussi tu le reconnais ? demanda Chloé, curieuse.

La jeune fille était bien la seule du groupe à recevoir du « tu » de la part de tout le monde, sûrement à cause de son âge, mais ça lui allait très bien. Elle hocha la tête en réponse à la question de Chloé.

-Oui. Il est venu une fois sur le territoire de la meute de mon oncle. Il avait noté un comportement étrange des loups de la région. Evidemment, il n'avait pas connaissance de l'existence des métamorphes, mais ça lui avait tapé dans l'œil quand même. Une fois, il a bien failli y passer, ajouta-t-elle à l'attention de Jackson. Il a failli surprendre une transformation, mais nous avons réussi à garder les choses sous contrôle.

-C'était il y a combien de temps ? la pressa Jackson.

-Il y a dix ans environ, je dirais… j'étais encore petite, je n'ai pas vraiment fait attention à ce qu'il disait, d'autant que c'était assez technique, mais je me souviens de la peur dans la voix de ma mère quand elle m'a parlé de lui. Je me rappelle aussi qu'il avait tenté d'amadouer mon oncle, pour pouvoir rester plus longtemps et poursuivre sa traque des loups bizarres, mais il a essuyé un refus catégorique et fort peu courtois. Je ne sais pas ce que notre alpha lui a dit ou de quoi il l'a menacé, mais il n'a plus jamais remis les pieds chez nous.

-Bon, je propose qu'on aille tous boire un verre, suggéra Abraham après un moment de silence. Il faut qu'on fasse un point.

-Un point ? demanda Jamie.

-Oui. Il s'est passé un certain nombre de trucs pendant ton absence… dit Chloé en glissant un regard éloquent à Niamh.

Celle-ci se mordit la lèvre en regardant ailleurs avec un soupir d'agacement. Jamie quant à elle, laissait ses yeux voler de l'une à l'autre avec incompréhension.

-Qu'est-ce que vous voulez dire ? fit-elle en fronçant les sourcils.

-Elle veut dire qu'elle nous as raconté la vérité, et qu'elle doit nous parler d'autres choses, acheva Mitch d'un ton incisif.

-Sérieux ? Vous y croyez, maintenant ? Et moi, vous allez me croire maintenant, avec Reiden Global ?

Aux têtes que tiraient les autres, la journaliste comprit qu'elle pourrait toujours courir pour ce dernier point. Même si une fille-loup était bien plus improbable que sa théorie, les autres n'étaient pas prêts à adhérer à sa théorie complotiste. Avec un râle d'exaspération, elle suivit les autres quand ils remontèrent dans la voiture.

 **Et voilà le chapitre 6, j'espère que vous avez apprécié :)**

 **Laissez un commentaire/review/n'importe quoi :)  
**


	7. Chapter 7 : Background and Bacteria

**Hello, I'm so sorry I'm late again... But just as I told you last time, I have to go to school and so I have less time to write...**

 **Well, thank you for reading, and thanks to the two people who left a review on the first chapter, I'm not sure whether you're still reading or died from my grammar, but thank you very much :3**

 **Well, I'll leave you, now, I stop talking ^^  
**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 7**

They all went back to the nearest bar to speak a little, as Abraham had suggested. Though the moon was high, they were thinking about taking the road as fast as possible, to escape from Kraft and Shafer. They sat at a table, far from other people, in a distant spot of the bar, and they ordered their drinks. Mitch, Abraham, Jackson and Jamie sat with their beers, Chloé caught a glass of red wine, completely assuming all the French clichés, and Niamh ordered her eternal hot chocolate. Not that she couldn't stand alcohol, but she didn't like the taste of it. After a few sips in silence, each keeping their nose in their glasses, Mitch finally raised his head, followed by Jamie, as much impatient as he was.

"So. You tell us ?" he let out, sighing.

"What do you wanna know ?" the girl answered, drinking a sip of chocolate.

"I would like to know what you meant by 'being blackmailed' when we met", Jamie exclaimed, leaning on the table.

Niamh took a long breath, outstretched her legs under the table, crossing her ankles, and leaning against her chair. She released her breath, laying her head on the headrest, already exhausted before even having started to tell.

"We're gonna start from the beginning, then…"

 _It all started forty years ago. My mother was the daughter of a great alpha of North Ireland, leader of a numerous pack whose territory extended from Belfast to the Lough Neagh_ (A.N : pronounciation 'Lo Nee', or check on Youtube, it's easy to find). _He was allied with another powerful alpha, living in Brittany, in France. My uncle. Their friendship seemed fragile to them, though, and as in the time before, they had the desire to engrave their alliance in marble. With a marriage._

 _My grand-father had a daughter, Aoife, my mother, who he offered to my uncle. However, he was already married, so he suggested his brother Nathanaël instead of him, who was still single. After a few meetings and a written agreement between the two alphas, my father and mother were promised to each other. They only met a few months after, and though at the beginning they didn't get along well, then they quickly built a trust and accomplice relationship. If they weren't really_ in love _, they were nonetheless close to each other, and would have formed a beautiful couple of alphas if the place wasn't already taken._

 _It is only after fifteen years of marriage that they decided to make a child. My uncle just had lost his wife in a stupid accident, and the pack was worrying about the lack of heir. They wanted to remedy to the problem, for the pack. But they didn't succeed. It was during a diplomatic mission, directed by my mother, that I was fathered. My father and her gave each other cold shoulder since a few months, and so she departed alone to Norway, to meet another metamorph clan._

 _They weren't like us… like the pack. They were forming a clan, a tribe, not a pack. And they didn't turn into wolves but into bears. And their gift, from what I learnt later, didn't manifest the same way as the wolves'. Their gift is inherited through blood, it is a dominant, powerful gene, that actively shows up within every wolf cub. Usually, around their forteen or fifteen years, when their body has become strong enough to resist the trauma of the transfomation, their first metamorphosis happens. Automatically. But the Berserkers' gift is usually transmitted through a shamanic ritual, during which the young Berserkers practice hand to hand combat covered with ritual paintings. At the end of the ceremony, they all transform and go to hunt together, in the wild forests of the far North. After this ritual, they are able to call for their gift at will._

 _My mother told me that she met the man who sired me while a diplomatic mission, which aim was to create bonds between the pack and the Berserkers' clan. She didn't have really much time to talk to me about him… Only a few hours until dawn. She simply told me she never thought a hybrid was even possible, neither that the Berserker and wolf's genes could melt up. She only spent a few days in Norway, and she didn't think for a second that she could be pregnant when she went back to Brittany. My parents made peace when she returned, and they tried again to make a child, without having any knowledge of her condition._

 _When I was born, nothing made me different from the other wolves' proginy. My uncle was really glad of my birth. Even if it wasn't_ his _son or_ his _daughter that would inherit of the pack, he was still happy that it was his blood and his brother's who'd govern. I'm surprised though that noone noticed, while I growed up, my hair color, so different from my father's. Him and my uncle had dark brown hair, and my mother had light brown air. And I, instead of growing brown hair, I sported caramel blond hair with red highlights I inherited directly from the man who fathered me._

 _Around me, the young wolves started to turn, and after my fifteen years past, still no transformation in sight, and people started to look at me with unfriendly eyes. My uncle, in particular, who was starting to fear that I could never take his following. I had become the omega, while I was born and grew up as daughter and niece of alpha. To the Berserkers, the activation of the gene usually waited for the youngster to be eighteen or nineteen. All the wolf cubs had had their first transformation since years, but I, had to wait for my seventeen years old._

 _The week before my first tansformation, I was really agitated, I had thrills and my whole body was itching and aching, especially in my gums. I had the feeling that something huge tried to make blow my skin and spurt out of my body, I couldn't help myself but run and jump there and here. I drove everyone mad at me, in the pack, the youngsters like the elders. And then finally, the friday night of this endless week, the moon rose high in the sky and the metamorphosis began. My parents locked me in our basement. It was a common thing in the pack. Before the transformation to be complete, before the cub has full control on their new animal form, they isolated them from the others so they could'nt harm anyone._

 _When I started to turn, my parents quickly noticed that something was wrong. A she-wolf weighs between sixteen and fifty kilos, and is one meter sixty long. I was taller and bigger, one meter forty to the shoulder, two meters long, without the tail, and I easily weighed a hundred kilos. I was sporting features common to wolves, with the long silhouette and muzzle, the length of the tail, though it was still shorter that wolves'. I was also presenting bears' features, as the shape of my ears, the stocky aspect of my silhouette, and the thick collar of fur on my neck. Plus, the shape of my legs and paws looked like both the wolves', for their sheer shape, but also like the bears' for their thickness and strength._

 _My father immediately understood I wasn't normal. He understood in a few minutes, seeing my face, paws and fur, that I wasn't his daughter. He left the basement, infuriated, abandonning my mother and I underground. I was left with no words, helpless, and I didn't understand what was happening to me, nor why I suffered so much. My first transformation was extremely painful, because of the wolf and Berserker hybridation. Once the pain stopped, and I recovered some lucidity, I laid myself in front of my mother, my massive head down on her lap. And she started to speak._

 _She told me her meeting with with this Berserker, the man who sired me. She told me she couldn't have thought a hybrid was possible. She told me how sorry she felt for what was happening to me because of the only time she cheated on my father. She warmly hugged me. And we talked the whole night about her trip in Norway, about this one Berserker from this bear clan… His name was Jorgen, and he was their leader. And… I think she once loved him, though briefly._

 _In the morning, after I turned human again, I was really weak, just like every cub and young Berserkers after their first transformation. My father came in the basement with my uncle and dragged us outside, in front of the whole pack. It was a sort of public shaming, except that we wouldn't just get a monumental rebucke, there also would be a death sentence._

 _My uncle as the pack leader, explained the situation to the crowd. He told them how my mother betrayed the pack and his brother and how much she deserved a punishment. One minute after he started to talk, the crowd was already growling and was mumbling together. Five minutes after, they all had openly bared their fangs Ten minutes after, half of the crowd was transformed and ready to gut us. He really did show my mother as evil and mischievous as possible._

 _And it was only the beginning. When he had finished his speech, he turned towards my father and put a hand on his shoulder. I clearly remember every single detail, though it's three years old. "And now, brother, I make you the honor to execute your sentence", my uncle said. My father briefly looked mortified, and then remembered the irreparable insult she had done to him by cheating on him. And then he snapped. He half transformed himself and became a creature of nightmare full of fangs and claws, and then he threw himself on my mother. He hit her, beat her, scratched and mauled her restlessly, and she didn't even dare to resist. I still don't know if it was whether she knew she was guilty and that honor and loyalty forced her to face her punishment with dignity. Or if it was because she was petrified with terror because of the monster my father had become. Or even… if she was hoping that if she didn't hit back, then my father's wrath would eventually dry up, or that he wouldn't turn it towards me then._

 _He beat her up senseless, and didn't stop after several minutes after she stopped moving. Despite the wolves incredible regeneration ability, he had hurt her beyond any possibility of healing. She was dead. My mother. Mummy. The one who always had supported me, shouldered and comforted when I was afraid of the dark, of monsters lying under my bed or human hunters… She was there, right under my eyes, lying in a puddle of red blood, eyes closed and face contorted in pain. Her dislocated body was still, frozen for all eternity in an improbable position with broken limbs._

 _"_ _And now, turn you anger against this abomination who pretended to be your daughter, cast your vengeance upon that creature ! Wash your honor in her blood !" my uncle commanded to my father. And then he turned towards me, while I was still kneeling above my mother's body, tears falling on my cheeks endlessly as I felt the Beast under my skin roaring its suffering. My father looked at me, fangs blood red and with mad eyes, but when he made eye contact with me… He seemed to calm down. He was incapable of hurting me. I still was his daughter, despite his wife's treason, he still had raised me, loved me, cherished me… He couldn't cast his fury on me just like he did with my mother._

 _Then he transformed back into human and banned me from the pack. My uncle refused to let me live, and my father refused to kill me. So they agreed on another solution : I was leaving the Pack forever. The Pack with a big "P". I was banned from mine and my uncle sent the message to all the other packs, so none of them would grant me a sanctuary. He had been espacially effective._

 _I ran away from Brittany after I had spent my whole time there and I traveled to North Ireland. I was hoping to join my grand father's pack. I barely could set foot on his territory, hug him and mourn the death of my mother with him before he send me back in wandering. He had been destroyed by my mother's death and completely mad at my father and uncle, but to the wolves, loyalty takes precedence over everything else. He had an agreement with the pack of Brittany, and so he had to stick to it even if the other alpha had not been perfectly upright. Reluctantly and broken heart, he ordered me to leave and never come back on his territory._

 _So I ran again. I wandered during a few months in the moor and forest before I had the idea to look for my northern heritage. So I worked here and there during my trip to north, enough to be able to buy a plane ticket to Oslo. From there, I followed the lead to the Berserkers until I found them. Them they didn't care about my banishment from the pack and they greeted me with open arms. I had become their daughter, to all of them._

 _I stayed with them a few months before my uncle's pack was victim of a mutiny, a coup. The former alpha was deposed and killed, as it was usually done before the new laws, more civilized. The new alpha was persuaded that my uncle and father were mistaken when they banned me. He thought I was a real threat to our secret and our species and so he refused to let me wander around freely, and so he cast his newly acquired pack after me._

 _They found us after days of research and flew on us like hawks on mice. They were numerous, like a good thirty heads, but the Berserkers, once recovered from their shock, were highly superior in combat. Seeing their imminent demise, the wolves retreated to prepare another attack. The Berserkers had lost five of them during the surprise assault but had hit back with honor and severed the pack from fifteen of their members._

 _We paid a last tribute to our dead and built pyres that burnt high in the skies… And when we finally finished, we were ready. The Berserkers began a ritual that left their heads filled to the brim with hatred, a hatred that amplified their powers. Their animal avatar was stronger, it could take more damage and hit harder… And then it was their turn to hunt down the wolves and find them to skin them alive. I fought side by side with them but I couldn't bring myself to kill my old pack brothers. Eventually, I fled before seeing the end of the war, but since I live in peace sice two years, I assume that the Berserkers won the battle and the war._

 _I went back to United Kingdom, in England this time, and I managed to enlist in college to study, get graduated and try and get a normal life again. During two years I worked to finance my studies and I worked at college. Until that very night, the day before we all met at Tokyo._

 _I was coming back home after class with a friend of mine and we were going through a shortcut. We've been attacked by a pack of mad dogs. With what we discovered these last days and what we've been facing, I now know that they weren't only mad but must have been infected with this bacteria we found out. So I had to transform to protect Richard and so he found out about my secret._

 _And then Alves showed up. He offered me to join the team and he wouldn't expose the metamorphs to the world. I had no choice. If I could reveal_ my own _existence, the Secret of the metamorphs didn't belong to me. It was the secret of a whole species that remained hidden for centuries. I had no right to decide for all of them, so I complied. I followed Alves to Tokyo and met you, and I told you about one of the most defended secrets in the world._

 _And this evening, in the woods, though you didn't believe me for the slightest minute, you changed your mind. Because you_ saw _. I also warned you about the strange urge pressing me to kill my best friend, but you still had to try it by yourselves to really start to understand. Indeed, I tried to attack Mitch and Abraham, and for this I apologize. I am sorry I couldn't control the wolf within me. I had heard the gunshot and smelt the pack, I thought you could be trapped between hunters and wolves. I panicked and so I didn't think. With my animal form, I could protect you from the wolves as well as from the hunters. I was more scared by them hurting you than by myself during the moment it took me to take my decision._

 _So I turned and found you, and thank God, you were fine. I was so scared and then so relieved that the strange thing in my mind spread its tentacles and almost made me attack you, if it wasn't for Abraham._

-There it is. I told you my life. Does any of you have questions ? Niamh asked, drinking a long sip of water, her throat parched from talking so long.

The five others were blankly staring at her, their glasses dried up since an eternity. They seemed completely stunned, still unable to digest what they just heard. Finally, after a few silent minutes they spent processing what she said, Jamie rose her head and handed out her notebook, which she scribbled a few things on as Niamh was telling her story.

"So even after… after all of that, you keep calling him your father ?"

The question caused a heavy silence to settle. Anyone would have forsake their family, but Niamh surprisingly seemed to stick to it just as if to a lifebuoy. She leaned back in her chair, nervously biting her lip and not daring to cross eyes with the others.

"He _is_ my father. For better and for worse, even if our family went through much more sadness that happiness lately."

"But what about… what was his name… Jorgen ! Do you not consider him as your father ?"

"As I said previously, he is only my sire. The man who raised me was Nathanaël, the brother of the biggest alpha of Brittany. He was there were I was born, when I said my first words, when I took my firsts steps, when I was hurt, when I was scared, when I was in pain and when I was sad. He was there when I first went to school, then to middle school, to high school, he was there to help me out and support me when the other cubs transformed and I didn't. _This_ is a father, no matter blood says."

"He still massacred your mother, didn't he ?" Mitch blurted before almost immediately apologize for the roughness of his words.

"He did. But he still remains the one who raised me. He is a father I do not love, a father who stole my mother and my pack from me, bu anyway my father. Jorgen is and will stay Jorgen to me. Anymore questions ?"

"You told us you grew up in Brittany… so you're actually French ?" Chloé asked with curiosity.

"Half. Half French, half Irish, but my identity papers are english. I had to dump the french ones, so the pack wouldn't find me too easily."

"And so, how old are you, then ? Because if we trust what you just told us, then you'd be older than what we initially thought… How old do y'all think she is ?" Jamie asked round the table.

"Sixteen to eighteen", everyone replied.

Niamh softly smiled without any sarcasm nor mockery, lost in thoughts.

"I'll be twenty-one in four months", she answered quietly, as if to soften the impact of her words.

Chloé, Jackson and Jamie nodded, pretending not to care even if it was all the opposite, Mitch sighed by wiping his face with his hand, and Abraham burst out laughing, true to his joyful temper.

"Metamorphs age way slower than humans, because of their regeneration powers", Niamh explained to reassure them. "My uncle would have been eighty-seven years old this year, my father, seventy-eight and my mother, seventy-two."

Although they all had drunk and thus being quite inebriated, none of them felt amused by their youngest recruit's story. It was all the opposite. With such a revelation about her past, they couldn't help but trying to see metamorphs everywhere in their vicinity, and immediately, they all thought about the wolf they performed surgery on earlier that day.

"The wolf ! It was a… a…" Jamie began, stuttering with fear.

She was already fantasizing that the wolf was actually a metamorph that refrained from transforming himself and so reveal the secret, and that they just abandonned him to the animal control.

"No", Niamh quickly reassured her with a peaceful open hand. "No, it wasn't a metamorph. It was just a wolf. We haven't met any metamorph so far. And I fear that we won't meet a lot of sane ones… Knowing our love for freedom and wild run, I'm sure they kept transforming. I have no idea if they noticed this blood lust, hidden deep in their very soul, but if they didn't, they must have complied to it."

She remained silent for a moment, her features darkened by the thought of the so sad fate of her peers.

"Regardless the danger, I hope we will meet some of them, though… I don't want my species to go extinct… If we can save them, then I'd like us to try to do something.

Abraham put one his giant hands on her arm to show her his support and confort her.

"We are with you, Niamh. When we'll find a cure, we'll do all that is possible to heal you and your brothers."

Absolutely frustrated, Mitch sighed deeply, stood up and went ordering another glass of scotch at the bar. Jackson and Chloé watched him walking away, already abandoning the idea to ease his bad mood. He would need some time to absorb the existence of metamorphs, for his cartesian mind to digest such nonsense.

"Don't worry", Jamie said with a gentle smile on her face. "He'll get over this."

"I don't worry about him. I'm on your side, and if he has a hard time accepting it, well too bad for him but I don't care. I worry for the others… My grand father and the Berserkers' clan. I'm afrais they have succumbed to the disease…"

"Look, Niamh…" Chloé began with a surprinsingly soft voice, considreing her usual autoritarian speech. "We will do all we can to find a cure and put an end to this madness, and save your people."

Lost in thoughts, the girl nodded distractly with an anxious pout. Even though she had been separated from the Pack for years, she still was worrying about them. Though she was a lone wolf, she still had the heart of the wolf, she was loyal, to her family and her pack. She was still buried deep in her thoughts when Mitch came back with them and brutally put his glass on the table, almost spilling out the amber liquid in it.

"Well, tomorrow morning, we'll go to the nearest University to analyze the wolf's blood and see if we can fin the bacteria. Niamh, you'll comme with me, you'll watch for any disturbance", he declared with a tone that didn't call for any retort.

Niamh was surprised that he talked to her again, and so she rose her head with curiosity.

"Me ? Weren't you angry at me ?"

"You're the youngest, you'll be invisible in the corridors, while one of the others would catch everyone's attention. The security guarding the entrance sees thousands of students everyday, I'll pass for your father and we'll enter easily."

"My father ?" Niamh repeated, finding the idea so funny it made her smile widely.

"What ?" he grumbled hesitantly, sensing an imminent pique from the metamorph.

"Nothing", she replied giggling inwardly.

Mitch was forty centimeters smaller than Jorgen, who even if she didn't consider him as her father was nonetheless her sire and so she inherited his traits. And so, if she had to number the differences between Mitch and her, she wouldn't finish before the next night. Still, thinking of Mitch embodying the role of the tall and muscular Jorgen could only make her laugh.

"I'll be your step-daughter, then, because we are way too different for anyone to believe we're parents. Well… It's more likely than noone will care about us."

They left the bar and took the car, driving to Alabama.

While Jackson and Chloé were waiting outside the campus, Mitch and Niamh infiltrated the University. He had snuck in a biology classroom and was analyzing the blood sample with a microscope. And Niamh was keeping watch in the corridor, so anxious she had started to pace around. Her phone stuck to her ear, Mitch on the other side, she didn't dare to disturb him but saw the time of the end of class coming fast, meaning that an enormous amout of student would flox in the corridors and notice them. Or at least notice Mitch, because she was rather invisible indeed. The students went by her without even looking at her, just as they would pass by another girl in the University.

Aiming to alleviate her boredom, Niamh tried to keep her mind busy on the sport class taking place on the sports ground, four stages down. It was a sprint and hedge jump class, and suddenly she envied these sweating students running round the stadium, while _she_ was stuck on the fourth floor of a University she wasn't even supposed to go to, keeping watch for Mitch, who didn't seem to ever be finished with his mission.

"God damn it, Mitch, are you done ?" she finally hissed at the phone.

He sighed in reply, as upset as her because of the stress he felt about being caught red hand in a classroom, 'playing' with their biology supply.

"I won't be faster because you're yelling at me", he grumbled.

As tense as it felt possible, Niamh was pacing around, incapable of staying still. Crawling under her skin, she was feeling her fur eager to spurt out, causing her rather annoying itches that _did_ _not_ help her calm down. She unconscioulsy bared her teeth, which were starting to slowly turning into fangs and she caught the gold glint in her eyes in her reflection in the glass in front of which she was standing. She took several long breaths to calm down and managed to refrain from transforming in the middle of the university.

It was one of the bad sides of being a bastard Berserker. The wolves' transformation is perfectly tamed, they activate it willingly when in need and though anger, fear or duress made the process easier, these emotions never forced it. However, every single negative emotion, such as wrath, rage, hatred, fear, stress, or even a big rush of adrenaline that overwhelmed a Berserker made him turn. Through years, Niamh had learnt to contain her emotions without supressing them though, to avoid this kind of unpleasant accident, especially when she was at school or in the street, getting angry at some rude bystander or at a robber.

And today, on the fourth floor of a building, surrounded by student who would soon leave their classrooms and teachers she sometimes saw walking through the hallways, her whole body was swarming with anguish, stress and adrenaline. Having to struggle with herself was even becoming physically painful. She growled to herself, pacing again in the corridor, incapable to stay still more than a minute long.

"And now ? Mitch, are you finished ?" she snapped once again.

"Not yet…"

"Hurry up, the end of class will ring in a minute…" she pressed him with an angst-filled voice.

"Don't push me…"

She exhaled loudly, trying to breath out her fear, to no avail.

"Hey now…" Mitch said with victory in his voice. "Looks like a type of _Alcanivorax_ bacteria. Kind they use to clean up oil spills, eats hydrocarbons."

"Fine, but how did it wind up in the blood of a wolf ?" Niamh asked, though she already had an idea about that.

"The usual way. It went from a primary consumer all the way to a tertiary consumer."

"The food web. That's what I suspected. So you think the bacteria was in their preys, and even before it in the plants they ate ?"

"Yes. But we still have no idea of how the bacteria found itself in the plants in the first place, and then be eaten by rabbits, deers or whatever else…" he mumbled.

And just like that, as if it was some sort of timed coincidence, the ring of the interclass rang in the corridor. Trying to refrain another wave of stress, Niamh turned towards the widow and let her hair flow on her face to prevent the students to notice her fangs protruding from her mouth, or her golden eyes, or the thin fur starting to grow on her skin.

"Quick…" she hardly muttered between her clentched teeth.

"Wait a second, I think I found something."

"No, we _have_ to go !"

"Yep, I'm gone", he replied.

Twenty seconds later, he patted her shoulder to mean her to run away. Except that she wasn't ready to go yet. She had grown of ten centimeters without anyone to notice, for they were all to focused on their next class, and some blood was spilling from her palms as she was clentching her fists to hide her claws. When all the sudents were gone, she allowed herself to breathe more freely and dropped to the floor while she turned towards the vet, completely exhausted by her struggle against herself.

"Hey, are you okay ?" Mitch asked, he was so worried he momentarily forgot his everlasting bad mood against her.

Eyes closed and quickly breathing, leaning her head on the window behind her, Niamh took her time to answer.

" _That_ was close…" she whispered.

"You mean you can't control your wolf even when you're on your human form ?" he said worriedly and took a step back.

"I can… Usually. Strong emotions, such as fear or anger, weaken my control. And being surronded by swarming people, pushing me carelessly doesn't really help to keep calm, nor does it to be in altitude. Well, I think we can go, now. I feel better."

They hurried down the university's entrance hall and ran to Jackson and Chloé, who were nervously waiting for them in the car, outside of the parking.

"Slipping out without getting caught by the teacher. Takes me back", Mitch joked closing the door behind him.

"Let's go", Niamh grumbled, sat on the back seat with the vet. "I don't want to get caught now…"

Jackson started the car and they all drove back to the hotel, where they had filed new rooms. After putting their stuff in their rooms, they went back to the bar to have a talk about what they found in the university's bio lab. All together around a table at the bar, they were listening to Mitch debriefing them.

"Yeah, once I increased the magnification, I saw a chemical signature. A string of benign molecules that have no bearing on the bacteria whatsoever", he explained while sipping his whiskey.

"Audience, Mitch. Remember it, we're not scientists" Jamie remarked in a sarcastic voice as she drank a sip of beer.

"It means the bacteria was man-made", Niamh politely answered instead of the vet, surprising everybody. "What ? I was listening in biology class, I kinda liked that."

"Indeed, and it was signed by the chemist who created it."

"Then, we need to talk to this chemist", Abraham said innocently.

"Not that easy", countered Mitch with a weary tone. "Think of the signature as a… a graffiti tag. I saw it, but I still have no idea who painted it on the wall."

"So we're at a dead end", Jamie let out with a defeatist look.

"Not yet", Mitch comforted them. "I forwarded the signature to a guy I know at M.I.T. He might be able to come up with an I.D for us."

As they were all drinking their whiskey, beer and hot chocolate, Chloé walked to them. She spent like an eternity to the phone, since they arrived, most likely talking with one of her superiors about what they should do next, now they had investigated the prison lead. Even though they didn't finish their investigation, the pandemy wasn't over, and they would probably have to go the day after for a new mission. And so she said…

"Pack your bags. We're going to Rio", she announced brutally.

Abraham burst out laughing, quickly joined by Niamh who almost choked on her chocolate.

"Ha ha ! I love this job !"

"Yeah… I've been told three times in a week to change of continent, I've never travelled so much in my whole life", Niamh added with a wide smile.

"What's in Rio ?" Mitch asked, more professionnal.

"You said if you could find out what all of these animals we've encountered have in common, you can maybe find a way to figure out what's happening. Well, you can add bats to your list"

Jackson pouted and nodded with a jaded look.

"Bats", he simply repeated.

And all of them heard 'fantastic, _that_ on top of everything else…'. For his part, Abraham had left all hilarity and was wiping his face warily.

"Thousands of them swarming all over Rio", Chloé added. "In broad daylight."

"That's weird, right ?" Jamie asked to Mitch, whom she was rather close to.

Mitch turned towards her and responded with a grimace, cocking his head.

"What, the daylight thing ? Bats are nocturnal, but it's not unheard of."

"Thousands of them though ?" Jackson said without any ounce of pity for the vet.

"Yeah..." Mitch capitulated, his face clearly illustrating how much puzzled he was by this.

The ring of his phone suddenly rang, and he walked away to answer it. Niamh considered the idea of spying on his conversation, but she finally chose to leave him alone. And as she saw Jackson walk away with Chloé, she thought that _this_ should be more interesting that Mitch's talk.

"I'm not going to Rio."

"Jackson…" Chloé sighed with a disapproving look.

"I'm going to find Leo Butler."

And as he said that, Niamh stopped listening. She didn't care about what was coming next as a plea. She would wait for the final result to really start listening. She drank a mouthful of hot chocolate and turned to Jamie to have a small chat, when Mitch came back to them.

"That was my guy at M.I.T. He was able to I.D the signature."

Niamh's brow rose as she whistled with admiration. Within so little time, succeeding to identify a scientist only with to his signature was quite a feat, in her opinion.

"It was a chemist who used to work at… Reiden Global", he added reluctantly as if only pronouncing those words was a torture.

Jamie jumped from her chair, triggered by his words.

"What ? I'm sorry, the company that you all keep telling me isn't the root of all evil ? That Reiden Gobal ?"

Niamh smiled widely at her, both amused by the situation and happy for the reporter, who finally was getting some recognition after years spent telling the same story. She quite well understood her excitement about this discovery, as she had spent only three days trying to convince the others about the truthfulness of her story. In her case, though, they all could figure out soon she was indeed telling the truth, but Jamie had to struggle for years against the whole world to make herself heard.

"Did you get a name ?" Abraham asked, keeping focus on their mission.

"I did. Leo Butler."

After her small spying thing on the zoologist and the French woman, Niamh was the only one who knew what this meant, and she couldn't help but laughing loudly. Jamie joined her, though she didn't laugh for the same reasons, but she was too glad to finally prove she was right.

"Leo Butler ?" Jackson repeated, thoughtful, as Chloé was eyeing at him weirdly.

"Why ? You know him ?" Mitch wondered.

"No. But I sure as hell want to", Jackson retorted, determinely staring at Chloé.

She deliberated a few seconds before giving her 'go' and distributing her orders. After all, she still was the leader of the group, and it was her job to assign tasks to everyone.

"Okay, Jackson, you stay here with Jamie and you find this Leo Butler. The rest of us will go to Rio."

"Hum, I'd rather like to stay with Jackson and Jamie if possible", Niamh announced, quite embarrassed to discuss the command of her 'alpha'. "We have no idea of what they'll find there, and I'll feel better if they had someone to protect them."

"Protect us ? We are more than capable of handling ourselves, and you're wounded, remember ?" Jackson defended himself, quite upset that a girl younger than him could be their protector.

Niamh rolled up her sleeve and showed them her wrist, that she had bitten to blood the day before. There wasn't anymore wound, nor even remain of it or scar, only her skin and flesh, light and smooth, her veins throbbing under her skin.

"Chloé ?" the metamorph asked, with a confident look but waiting for permission though.

Again, the DGSE agent froze to think, and bit her lip. The girl could almost see the wheels cling in her mind. As she was taking a really long time to decide, probably thinking of keeping their youngest recruit next to her in order to watch on her, Niamh pleaded on her behalf.

"I'm a wolf, I know how to track a prey. I'm a bear, I have some knowledge about violent fights. But watching bats flying in the sky, that, I'm not good at… I'll be more useful with them than with you", she started, before letting her voice die for a moment. "And as you know, I don't do well with confinement and altitude, so if I could avoid plane trips as much as I can…" she quickly added with embarrassment.

Chloé deeply sighed but finally agreed to the metamorph's demand.

" _Vendu_ ", she said in French before speaking English again for the others to understand. "You'll stay with Jackson and Jamie. When you'll have found Leo Butler, keep us in touch", she commanded anyway.

They all went gathering their belongings in their hotel rooms and divided in two groups. Chloé, Abraham and Mitch on one side, and Jackson, Jamie and Niamh on the other. They bade farewell to each other and parted their ways, before the first group headed to the airport, to Rio.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading, I'll try to translate the next chapter (that's already written but in French) as soon as I can ^^**

 **Ah, other news, I found someone to read the fanfic before I post it, so maybe if she's okay to take some of her time to re-read my story, then you'll get better grammar ^^'**

* * *

 **Salut, encore désolée du retard... Mais comme je l'ai dit la dernière fois, les cours on repris, et j'ai moins de temps pour écrire...**

 **En tout cas, merci à vous de lire, et merci aux deux personnes qui ont laissé une review au premier chapitre. Je sais pas si vous êtes encore là où si ma grammaire anglaise vous a tués, mais merci beaucoup :3**

 **Bon, je vous laisse lire tranquilles, maintenant ^^**

* * *

 **CHAPITRE 7**

Ils se retrouvèrent tous au bar le plus proche pour discuter, ainsi qu'Abraham l'avait proposé. Bien que la nuit soit tombée, ils réfléchissaient à reprendre la route au plus vite, pour échapper à Kraft et Shafer. Ils s'installèrent à une table éloignée de la foule, dans un coin du bar, et commandèrent leurs boissons. Mitch, Abraham, Jackson et Jamie s'attablèrent avec leurs bières, Chloé récupéra un verre de rouge, assumant complètement les clichés sur les français, et Niamh commanda son sempiternel chocolat chaud. Non pas qu'elle ne tenait pas l'alcool, seulement, elle n'en aimait pas beaucoup le goût. Après quelques gorgées en silence, chacun gardant le nez plongé dans son verre, Mitch releva la tête, accompagné par Jamie, tout aussi impatiente.

-Bon. Tu nous racontes ? lâcha-t-il en soupirant.

-Qu'est-ce que vous voulez savoir ? répondit la jeune fille en buvant une gorgée de chocolat.

-Moi, je voudrais savoir ce que tu voulais dire quand tu nous as dit qu'on te faisait chanter, lança Jamie en se penchant en avant sur la table.

Niamh prit une longue inspiration, étendit les jambes sous la table en croisant les chevilles, le dos appuyé contre le dossier de sa chaise. Elle relâcha son souffle en renversant la tête en arrière, déjà fatiguée avant même d'avoir commencé à raconter.

-On va commencer par le commencement, alors…

 _Tout a commencé il y a près de quarante ans. Ma mère était la fille d'un grand alpha d'Irlande du nord, chef d'une meute nombreuse dont le territoire s'étendait de Belfast au Lough Neagh_ (N.A : prononciation « Lo Nii », cherchez sur Youtube, au pire). _Il était allié avec un autre puissant alpha, établi en Bretagne, en France. Mon oncle. Leur amitié leur semblait cependant fragile, et comme au temps d'avant, ils souhaitaient graver leur alliance dans le marbre. Par le mariage._

 _Mon grand-père avait une fille, Aoife, ma mère, qu'il proposa à mon oncle. Celui-ci était cependant déjà marié, mais suggéra son frère Nathanaël à sa place, toujours célibataire. Après quelques rencontres et un accord écrit entre les deux alphas, mon père et ma mère ont été promis l'un à l'autre. Ils ne se sont rencontrés que quelques mois plus tard, et si au départ ils ont eu du mal à s'entendre, ils ont vite bâti une relation de confiance et de complicité. S'ils n'étaient pas vraiment_ amoureux _, ils n'en étaient pas moins proches, et auraient presque fait un excellent couple d'alphas si la place n'était pas déjà prise._

 _Ce n'est qu'après quinze ans de mariage qu'il se sont décidés à avoir un enfant. Mon oncle venait de perdre sa femme dans un bête accident, et la meute s'inquiétait de l'absence d'héritier. Ils ont voulu remédier à ce problème, pour la meute. Mais ils n'y sont pas parvenus. C'est lors d'une mission diplomatique dirigée par ma mère que j'ai été conçue. Mon père et elle étaient en froid depuis quelques mois, et elle était partie seule en Norvège, pour rencontrer un autre clan de métamorphes._

 _Ils n'étaient pas comme nous… comme la meute. Ils formaient un clan, une tribu, pas une meute. Et ils ne se changeaient pas en loups, mais en ours. Et leur don, de ce que j'ai appris par la suite, ne se manifeste pas de la même façon que chez les loups. Le don des loups se transmet par le sang, c'est un gène dominant, puissant, qui se manifeste activement chez tous les enfants de loups. Généralement, aux alentours de leurs quatorze ou quinze ans, quand leur corps est devenu assez résistant pour supporter la transformation, leur première métamorphose s'opère. Automatiquement. Chez les Berserkers, leur don se transmet aussi par le sang, mais le gène a besoin d'être activé avant de pouvoir se métamorphoser. Cette activation a lieu d'ordinaire au cours d'un rituel chamanique au cours duquel les jeunes Berserkers s'affrontent à la lutte, couverts de peintures rituelles. A la fin de la cérémonie, ils se transforment tous et partent chasser en groupe, dans les forêts sauvages du grand Nord. Après ce rituel, ils sont en mesure d'appeler leur don à volonté._

Ma mère m'a raconté qu'elle a rencontré mon géniteur lors d'une mission diplomatique visant à créer des liens entre la meute et le clan des Berserkers. Elle n'a pas eu le temps de beaucoup me parler de lui… A peine quelques heures avant le lever du jour. Elle m'a simplement expliqué qu'elle n'aurait jamais cru qu'un hybride était possible, ni même que le gène du Berserker pourrait se mélanger au gène du loup. Elle n'avait passé que quelques jours en Norvège, et ne pensait pas une seconde être enceinte lorsqu'elle est revenue en Bretagne. Mes parents se sont réconciliés et ont a nouveau tenté d'avoir un enfant, sans avoir connaissance de l'état de ma mère.

 _Quand je suis née, rien ne me différenciait des autres enfants de loups. Mon oncle était aux anges. Même si ce n'était pas_ sa _fille ou_ son _fils qui hériterait de la meute, il était heureux de savoir que ce serait tout de même son sang et celui de son frère qui dirigerait. Je suis cependant surprise qu'en grandissant personne n'ait remarqué ma couleur de cheveux si différente de celle de mon père. Lui et mon oncle étaient d'un brun très sombre, et ma mère était châtain clair. Et moi, au lieu d'arborer la crinière brune de ma famille, j'avais les cheveux blond caramel avec des reflets roux, que je tenais directement de mon géniteur Berserker._

 _Autour de moi, les jeunes loups commençaient à se transformer, et passés mes quinze ans, toujours sans aucune métamorphose, on a commencé à me regarder de travers. Mon oncle, en particulier, qui commençait à craindre que je ne puisse jamais prendre sa suite. J'étais devenue l'oméga, alors que j'étais fille et nièce d'alpha. Chez les Berserker, l'activation du gène attendait généralement les dix-huit ou dix-neuf ans. Tous les louveteaux s'étaient transformés pour la première fois depuis des années, mais moi, j'ai dû attendre mes dix-sept ans._

 _La semaine qui a précédé ma première transformation, j'ai été très agitée, parcourue de démangeaisons, de douleurs lancinantes dans les gencives. J'avais la sensation qu'un truc énorme voulait faire éclater ma peau et jaillir hors de mon corps, je ne pouvais pas m'empêcher de courir et de sauter dans tous les sens. J'ai rendu fou tout le monde dans la meute, les jeunes comme les plus âgés. Et enfin, le vendredi soir de cette semaine interminable, la lune s'est levée dans le ciel, et ma première transformation a commencé. Mes parents m'ont enfermée dans la cave de la maison familiale. C'était chose courante chez les loups. Avant que la transformation ne soit finalisée, que le louveteau ait le plein contrôle de sa nouvelle forme, on l'isolait des autres pour qu'il ne blesse personne._

 _Quand j'ai commencé à muter, mes parents se sont rapidement aperçus que quelque chose clochait. Une louve pèse entre seize et cinquante kilos, pour un mètre soixante de long. J'étais plus grande et plus grosse, un mètre quarante au garrot, deux mètres de long sans compter la queue pour facilement cent kilos. Je présentais des traits communs aux loups, dans la silhouette et le museau allongés, la longueur de la queue, quoique elle soit tout de même plus courte que celle des loups. Et je présentais également des traits communs aux ours, comme la forme des oreilles, l'aspect trapu de la silhouette et l'épais collier de fourrure sur la nuque. De même, la forme de mes pattes ressemblait à la fois à celle des loups, pour leur forme brute, mais avaient l'épaisseur et la robustesse de celle des ours._

 _Mon père a tout de suite compris que je n'étais pas normale. Il a compris ensuite en quelques minutes, en voyant ma tête, mes pattes et ma fourrure, que je n'étais pas non plus sa fille. Il est sorti de la cave, fou furieux, nous abandonnant, ma mère et moi, sous terre. J'étais désemparée, je ne comprenais pas ce qui m'arrivait, ni pourquoi je souffrais autant. Ma première transformation a été affreusement douloureuse, à cause de l'hybridation entre loup et Berserker. Une fois que la douleur s'est calmée, et que j'ai retrouvé un semblant de lucidité, je me suis allongée devant ma mère, la tête posée sur ses genoux. Et elle a commencé à me parler._

 _Elle m'a raconté sa rencontre avec ce Berserker, mon géniteur. Elle m'a raconté qu'elle n'aurait jamais cru qu'un hybride était possible. Elle m'a raconté qu'elle était désolée pour ce qui m'arrivait à cause de son infidélité. Elle m'a serrée dans ses bras. Elle a parlé toute la nuit, de son voyage, de ce Berserker, du clan des ours… Il s'appelait Jorgen, il était leur chef. Et… je crois qu'elle l'a aimé, brièvement._

 _Au matin, quand je suis redevenue humaine, j'étais très affaiblie, comme tous les louveteaux et Berserkers après leur première métamorphose. Mon père est descendu dans la cave avec mon oncle, et ils nous ont traînées dehors, sous les yeux de toute la meute. Comme une sorte d'humiliation publique, sauf que le final de cette petite exhibition n'a pas été seulement une engueulade monumentale, mais également une mise à mort._

 _Mon oncle, le chef de meute, a alpagué la foule, et leur a expliqué la situation. Comment ma mère avait trahi son frère et comment elle méritait un châtiment exemplaire. Après seulement une minute de discours, les gens grognaient et s'insurgeaient entre eux. Au bout deux cinq, ils montraient les crocs ouvertement. Au bout de dix, la moitié était transformée et prête à nous sauter dessus pour nous étriper. Il a brossé le portrait le plus noir que j'ai jamais vu de ma mère._

 _Ce n'était que le début. Quand il a eu terminé sa harangue, il s'est tourné vers mon père et a posé une main sur son épaule. Je me souviens de chaque détail comme si c'était hier, alors que ça remonte déjà à trois ans. « Et maintenant, mon cher frère, c'est à toi que revient l'honneur d'appliquer ta sentence » dit mon oncle. Mon père a eu l'air mortifié, un bref instant, avant de se remémorer l'affront irréparable qu'elle lui avait fait en le trompant. Et il a pété un câble. Il s'est à moitié transformé, devenant une espèce de créature de cauchemar, pleine de griffes et de crocs, et il s'est jetée sur ma mère. Il l'a frappée, battue, griffée et déchiquetée sans répit, sans qu'elle n'ose répliquer. J'ignore encore si c'était parce qu'elle se savait coupable et que l'honneur et la loyauté lui commandaient d'affronter dignement le châtiment. Ou si c'était parce qu'elle était tétanisée de peur à cause du monstre qu'était devenu mon père. Ou encore… si elle espérait qu'en ne ripostant pas, la colère de mon père finirait par se tarir, ou qu'il ne la reporterait pas ensuite sur moi._

 _Il l'a tabassée, et ne s'est arrêté que plusieurs minutes après qu'elle a eu cessé de bouger. Malgré la capacité incroyable de régénération des loups, il l'avait blessée au-delà de toute guérison. Elle était morte. Ma mère. Ma maman. Celle qui m'avait toujours soutenue, épaulée, réconfortée quand j'avais peur du noir, des monstres cachés sous mon lit, ou des chasseurs humains… Elle était là, sous mes yeux, gisant dans une mare rouge de son propre sang, les paupières fermées et crispées de douleur. Son corps disloqué était immobile, figé pour l'éternité dans une position improbable, les membres brisés._

 _« Et maintenant, tourne ta colère contre cette abomination qui se faisait passer pour ta fille, abats ta vengeance sur cette créature ! Lave ton honneur dans son sang ! » a ordonné mon oncle à mon père. Et celui-ci s'est tourné vers moi, alors que j'étais encore agenouillée au-dessus du corps de ma mère, des larmes dévalant mes joues sans interruption alors que je sentais la bête sous ma peau hurler sa douleur. Mon père m'a regardée, les crocs rouges de sang et les yeux fous, mais quand il a posé le regard sur moi… Il s'est calmé. Il était incapable de me faire du mal. J'étais toujours sa fille, en dépit de la trahison de sa femme, il m'avait élevée, aimée, chérie… Il ne pouvait pas abattre sa fureur sur moi comme il l'avait fait sur ma mère._

 _Il s'est retransformé et m'a bannie de la meute. Mon oncle refusait de me laisser vivre, et mon père refusait de me tuer. Ils ont trouvé un compromis : je quittais la Meute à jamais. La Meute, avec un grand M. J'ai été bannie de la mienne, et mon oncle a fait passer le mot à toutes les autres meutes, pour qu'aucune ne m'offre l'asile. Il a été particulièrement efficace._

 _J'ai fui la Bretagne, après y avoir passé toute ma vie, et j'ai gagné l'Irlande du Nord, où j'espérais pouvoir me joindre à la meute de mon grand-père. J'ai eu le temps d'y mettre les pieds, de le serrer dans mes bras et de pleurer avec la lui la mort de ma mère, avant qu'il ne me demande de partir. Il était détruit par la mort de sa fille, et furieux après mon oncle et mon père, mais chez les loups, la loyauté prime. Il avait passé un accord avec la meute de Bretagne, et il devait s'y tenir, même si l'autre alpha n'avait pas été parfaitement intègre. A regret, le cœur déchiré, il m'a ordonné de partir et de ne jamais revenir sur son territoire._

 _J'ai donc fui à nouveau. J'ai erré pendant quelques mois dans la lande et les bois avant de penser à partir à la recherche de mon héritage nordique. J'ai donc travaillé au fil de mon voyage vers le nord, suffisamment pour pouvoir m'offrir un billet d'avion pour Oslo. De là, j'ai suivi la piste des Berserkers jusqu'à les retrouver. Eux n'avaient que faire du bannissement de la meute, et ils m'ont accueillie à bras ouverts. J'étais devenue leur fille, à tous._

 _Je suis restée avec eux quelques mois, avant que la meute de mon oncle ne subisse une mutinerie, un coup d'Etat. L'ancien alpha a été renversé et tué, comme cela se faisait souvent avant l'adoption de lois nouvelles, plus civilisées. Le nouvel alpha, persuadé que mon oncle et mon père faisaient fausse route en me bannissant, pensait que j'étais une véritable menace pour notre secret et pour notre espèce. Il refusait que je me promène librement dans la nature, et il a lancé sa toute nouvelle meute à ma recherche._

 _Ils nous ont trouvés après quelques jours de recherche et nous sont tombés dessus comme des faucons sur des souris. Ils étaient nombreux, une bonne trentaine, mais les Berserkers, passé la surprise, étaient largement supérieurs au combat. Voyant leur défaite approcher, les loups se sont repliés, pour préparer une prochaine offensive. Les Berserkers avaient perdu cinq des leurs dans l'assaut surprise, mais avaient riposté honorablement, en amputant la meute de quinze membres._

Nous avons rendu un dernier hommage à nos morts, nous leur avons bâti des bûchers qui ont brûlé haut dans le ciel… Et quand nous avons eu terminé, nous étions prêts. Les Berserkers ont entamé un rituel qui les a laissés emplis de haine, une haine qui a amplifié leurs pouvoirs. Leur forme animale en a été renforcée, elle encaissait plus de coups, frappait plus fort… Ce fut leur tour de traquer et de débusquer les loups pour les écorcher vifs. Je me suis battue avec eux, mais je ne pouvais pas me résoudre à tuer mes anciens frères de meute. J'ai finalement pris la fuite sans attendre de voir l'issue de la guerre, mais comme je vis en paix depuis deux ans, je crois que les Berserkers ont remporté la bataille, et la guerre.

 _Je suis retournée au Royaume-Uni, cette fois en Angleterre, et j'ai réussi à m'inscrire à l'université, pour étudier, décrocher un diplôme et reprendre une vie à peu près normale. Pendant deux ans j'ai travaillé pour payer ces études et j'ai travaillé à l'université. Jusqu'à ce fameux soir, la veille de notre rencontre à Tokyo…_

 _Je rentrais de cours avec un ami, on empruntait un raccourci par une rue parallèle. Nous avons été attaqués par une meute de chiens fous. Avec ce que nous avons appris ces derniers jours et ce à quoi nous avons été confrontés, je sais maintenant qu'ils n'étaient pas juste fous, ils devaient être infectés par cette bactérie qu'on a découverte. Toujours est-il que j'ai dû me transformer pour protéger Richard, et qu'il a été mis au courant de mon secret._

 _C'est à ce moment-là qu'Alves est arrivé. Il m'a proposé de rejoindre l'équipe, en échange, il ne dévoilerait pas l'existence des métamorphes au monde entier. Je n'avais pas le choix. Si je pouvais révéler_ mon _existence, le Secret des métamorphes ne m'appartenait pas. C'était le secret de toute une espèce qui vivait cachée depuis des centaines d'années. Il ne m'appartenait pas de décider pour eux, alors j'ai obéi. J'ai suivi Alves jusqu'à Tokyo, où je vous ai rencontrés, et où je vous ai révélé l'un des secrets les mieux défendus du monde._

 _Et cet après-midi, dans la forêt, alors que vous ne m'aviez pas crue un instant, vous avez changé d'avis. Parce que vous avez_ vu _. Je vous avais également mis en garde contre cette étrange pulsion qui avait manqué de me faire tuer mon meilleur ami, mais il a fallu que vous l'expérimentiez, que vous en fassiez les frais, pour que vous commenciez réellement à vous en soucier. Alors oui, j'ai manqué de m'en prendre à Mitch et Abraham, et pour cela je vous présente mes excuses. Je suis désolée de ne pas être parvenue à contrôler le loup en moi. J'avais entendu le coup de feu, et senti l'odeur de la meute, j'ai cru que vous vous étiez retrouvés entre deux feux, ou que la meute allait vous déchiqueter. J'ai paniqué et je n'ai pas réfléchi. Sous ma forme animale, je savais pouvoir vous protéger des loups comme des chasseurs, j'ai eu plus peur d'eux que de moi pendant le court instant qu'il m'a fallu pour prendre ma décision._

 _Alors je me suis transformée, je vous ai trouvés, et Dieu soit loué, vous alliez bien. J'avais eu tellement peur, et j'étais ensuite si soulagée, que le truc étrange qui m'a retourné l'esprit a étendu ses tentacules dans ma tête, et a failli me faire vous attaquer, si Abraham ne m'avait pas sortie de ce bourbier._

-Voilà. Je vous ai raconté ma vie dans les grandes lignes. Vous avez des questions ? demanda Niamh en buvant une longue gorgée d'eau, la gorge sèche d'avoir parlé si longtemps.

Les cinq autres la fixèrent longuement, leurs verres asséchés depuis une éternité. Ils avaient l'air assommés, encore incapables d'assimiler ce qu'ils venaient d'entendre. Enfin, après quelques minutes de silence qu'ils passèrent à digérer l'information, Jamie releva la tête et sortit son calepin, sur lequel elle avait griffonné quelques notes au fil de l'histoire.

-Même après… après tout ça, tu continues à l'appeler ton père ?

La question suscita un silence un brin pesant. N'importe qui aurait renié cette famille, mais Niamh semblait au contraire s'y accrocher comme à une bouée de sauvetage. Elle se rencogna contre le dossier sa chaise, en se mordillant la lèvre avec nervosité et sans oser croiser le regard des autres membres du groupe.

- _C'est_ mon père. Pour le meilleur et pour le pire, même si notre famille a vécu beaucoup de malheur.

-Mais, et... comment il s'appelle déjà... Jorgen ! Tu ne le considères pas comme ton père, lui ?

-Comme je l'ai dit dans mon récit, il n'est que mon géniteur. L'homme qui m'a élevée, c'était Nathanaël, frère du plus grand alpha de Bretagne. Il a été là à ma naissance, quand j'ai dit mes premiers mots, quand j'ai fait mes premiers pas, quand je me blessais, quand j'avais peur, quand j'avais mal, et quand j'étais triste. Il a été là quand je suis rentrée à l'école, puis au collège, au lycée, il a été là pour m'aider, et me soutenir quand les autres se sont transformés et pas moi. C'est _ça_ un père, quoi qu'en dise la génétique.

-Il a quand même massacré ta mère, non ? ne put s'empêcher de lâcher Mitch, avant de s'excuser immédiatement pour la brutalité de ses paroles.

-Oui. Mais il reste celui qui m'a élevée. Un père que je ne porte pas dans mon cœur, un père qui m'a privée de ma mère et de ma meute, mais tout de même un père. Jorgen est et restera Jorgen, pour moi. D'autres questions ?

-Tu as grandi en Bretagne, tu nous as dit… Tu es française, en fait ? s'enquit Chloé avec curiosité.

-A moitié. Mi-française, mi-irlandaise, mais mes papiers sont anglais. J'ai dû jeter les français, pour éviter que la meute ne me retrouve trop facilement.

-Et ça te fait quel âge en fait ? Parce que vu ce que tu nous as raconté, tu serais plus vieille que ce qu'on croyait… Vous lui donnez combien, vous ? ajouta Jamie en faisant un tour de table.

-Entre seize et dix-huit, fut la réponse générale.

Niamh sourit doucement, sans sarcasme ni moquerie, le regard dans le vide, songeuse.

-J'aurai vingt-et-un ans dans quatre mois, répondit-elle d'une voix douce, comme pour atténuer l'impact de ses mots.

Chloé, Jackson et Jamie hochèrent la tête en donnant l'air de ne pas être affectés, Mitch soupira en se passant une main sur le visage, dépassé, et Abraham éclata franchement de rire, fidèle à son tempérament jovial.

-Les métamorphes vieillissent plus lentement que les humains, conséquence de leurs pouvoirs de régénération, expliqua Niamh pour les rassurer. Mon oncle aurait eu quatre-vingt-sept ans cette année, mon père, soixante-dix-huit, et ma mère soixante-douze.

Bien qu'ils aient tous ou presque de l'alcool dans le sang, aucun ne se sentait grisé par l'histoire de leur plus jeune recrue. Au contraire. Avec la révélation d'un tel passif, ils ne pouvaient s'empêcher d'essayer de voir des métamorphes dans leur entourage, et immédiatement, ils en arrivèrent au loup qu'ils avaient opéré dans la journée.

-Le loup ! C'était un... un… commença Jamie en bégayant de peur.

Elle s'imaginait déjà que le loup était en réalité un métamorphe qui s'était retenu de se transformer pour ne pas révéler le secret, et qu'ils l'avaient livré aux services vétérinaires.

-Non, la rassura rapidement Niamh en étendant une main paume ouverte en signe de paix. Non, ce n'était pas un métamorphe. C'était un simple loup. Nous n'avons pas rencontré de métamorphe, pour le moment. Et je crains que nous n'en rencontrions que très peu sains d'esprit. Connaissant notre amour de la liberté et de la course sauvage, je suis sûre que tous ont continué à se transformer. J'ignore s'ils ont remarqué cette folie de sang, cachée au fond de leur âme, mais si ce n'est pas le cas, il ont dû y succomber.

Elle garda le silence un instant, la mine assombrie par la pensée du triste destin qui attendait ses pairs.

-J'espère que nous en trouverons quand même, toutefois… Je ne veux pas que mon espèce s'éteigne… Si nous pouvons en sauver, j'aimerais que l'on tente le coup.

Abraham posa un de ses immenses battoirs sur son bras pour lui témoigner son soutien et son réconfort.

-On est avec toi, Niamh. Quand on trouvera un remède, on fera ce qu'on peut pour vous soigner, toi et tes frères.

Franchement frustré, Mitch poussa un long soupir, se leva et retourna au comptoir commander un whiskey. Jackson et Chloé le regardèrent s'éloigner, renonçant à l'idée de le calmer. Il aurait besoin de temps pour digérer l'existence des métamorphes, pour que son esprit scientifique et cartésien assimile une telle absurdité.

-T'en fais pas, va, fit Jamie avec un gentil sourire. Il va s'en remettre.

-Je ne m'en fais pas pour lui. Je suis de votre côté, et s'il peine à l'accepter, et bien tant pis pour lui. Je m'inquiète plus pour les autres… Mon grand-père et le clan des Berserkers. J'ai peur qu'ils aient succombé à la maladie…

-Ecoute, Niamh… commença Chloé d'une voix douce, contrastant assez avec son attitude d'habitude autoritaire et tranchée. On va faire tout notre possible pour trouver un remède et mettre un terme à cette crise, et sauver les tiens.

La jeune fille hocha distraitement la tête, le regard dans le vide, en faisant la moue d'anxiété. Même si elle avait été séparée de la Meute depuis des années, elle continuait à se faire du souci pour eux. Elle avait beau être une solitaire, elle avait toujours le cœur d'un loup, loyal, fidèle à sa famille et sa meute. Elle était toujours plongée dans ses pensées quand Mitch revint s'asseoir, posant un peu brutalement son verre sur la table, et manquant d'en faire s'échapper le liquide ambré qu'il avait acheté.

-Bon, demain matin on ira à l'Université la plus proche pour analyser le sang du loup et voir si on déniche cette bactérie. Niamh, tu viendras avec moi, tu feras le guet, déclara-t-il d'un ton qui n'appelait aucune contestation.

Surprise qu'il lui adresse enfin la parole, la métamorphe releva la tête avec curiosité.

-Moi ? Vous ne me boudiez pas ?

-Tu es la plus jeune, tu passeras inaperçue dans les couloirs, alors que l'un des autres attirerait le regard. La sécurité à l'entrée voit passer des milliers d'étudiants tous les jours, je passerai pour ton père facilement, et on entrera sans problème.

-Mon père ? répéta Niamh, amusée jusqu'à en sourire franchement d'un air moqueur.

-Quoi ? maugréa-t-il d'un ton incertain, pressentant un tacle imminent de la part de la métamorphe.

-Non rien, se dégagea-t-elle en pouffant intérieurement.

Mitch faisait bien deux têtes de moins que Jorgen, qui, même si elle ne le considérait pas comme son père, restait celui qui lui avait donné la vie, et dont elle avait hérité les gènes. Ainsi donc, si elle devait dénombrer les différences entre Mitch et lui, elle n'aurait pas fini avant la nuit prochaine. Toujours est-il qu'imaginer Mitch dans le rôle du grand et musculeux Jorgen avait de quoi déclencher chez elle une crise de fou rire.

-Je serai votre belle-fille, alors, parce qu'on est vraiment trop dissemblables pour qu'on nous croie une seule seconde parents. Enfin bon… on ne nous demandera sûrement rien.

Ils se levèrent de table et quittèrent le bar, avant de prendre la route pour l'Etat voisin, l'Alabama.

Pendant que Jackson et Chloé attendaient dehors dans la voiture de location, Mitch et Niamh s'étaient infiltrés dans l'Université. Lui s'était glissé dans une salle de biologie et analysait en ce moment même le sang du loup au microscope. Pendant ce temps, Niamh surveillait les couloirs, anxieuse au point de faire les cent pas depuis de longues minutes. Son téléphone à la main, Mitch en ligne au bout du fil, elle n'osait pas le déranger, mais voyait l'heure de la fin des cours approcher à grands pas, signifiant immanquablement qu'un torrent d'élèves déferlerait dans les couloirs et ne manquerait pas de les remarquer. Ou plutôt, de remarquer Mitch, parce que pour sa part, elle se fondait plutôt bien dans la masse. Les étudiants lui passaient autour sans faire attention à elle outre mesure, comme s'ils passaient devant une énième fille de leur université.

Pour tenter de tromper son inquiétude, Niamh essayait de s'occuper l'esprit en regardant le cours de sport qui avait lieu sur le stade, à l'extérieur, quatre étages en dessous d'elle. C'était un cours de sprint et saut de haies, et soudain, elle envia grandement les étudiants suants qui couraient autour de la piste, alors qu'elle était bloquée au quatrième étage d'une université où elle n'était pas censée mettre les pieds, en train de faire le guet pour Mitch, qui semblait n'en jamais finir avec sa mission.

-Bon sang, Mitch, c'est bientôt fini ? finit-elle par s'agacer au téléphone.

Il soupira en réponse, tout aussi énervé qu'elle, du fait de la pression qu'il ressentait à l'idée de se faire prendre dans une salle de classe en train de bidouiller leur matériel scientifique.

-J'irai pas plus vite parce que tu me cries dessus, maugréa-t-il.

Tendue au possible, Niamh gigotait dans tous les sens, la bougeote chevillée au corps. Sous sa peau, sa fourrure brûlait de jaillir, lui provoquant des démangeaisons assez désagréables qui ne l'aidèrent pas du tout à se calmer. Ses lèvres se retroussaient toutes seules sur ses dents, qui commençaient à lentement former des crocs, et elle interceptait son regard devenir jaune doré, dans le reflet de la baie vitrée devant laquelle elle était. Elle prit plusieurs longues et profondes respirations pour essayer de se calmer, et parvint à enrayer sa transformation imminente.

C'était un des inconvénients de sa bâtardise Berserker. Chez les loups, la transformation était parfaitement maîtrisée, activée volontairement par les métamorphes quand ils en avaient besoin, et si la colère, la peur ou le stress facilitaient le processus, ces émotions ne le forçaient cependant pas. En revanche, chez les Berserkers, toute émotion négative un peu trop marquée, la colère, la rage, la haine, la peur, le stress ou une grosse dose d'adrénaline était parfaitement susceptible de déclencher la métamorphose involontairement. Au fil des ans, Niamh avait appris à juguler ses émotions, sans toutefois les supprimer, pour éviter ce genre d'accident désagréable, surtout à l'école ou dans la rue quand elle s'énervait après un passant malpoli ou un voleur à l'arraché.

Aujourd'hui, au quatrième étage d'un bâtiment, entourée d'étudiants qui ne tarderaient plus à sortir de classe et de professeurs qu'elle voyait parfois passer dans les couloirs, tout son système nerveux fourmillait d'angoisse, de stress et d'adrénaline. Devoir lutter contre elle-même en devenait même douloureux. Elle gronda toute seule, reprenant ses cent pas, incapable de rester en place plus d'une minute.

-Et maintenant ? Mitch, vous avez fini ? craqua-t-elle une nouvelle fois.

-Toujours pas…

-Dépêchez-vous, ça va sonner dans une minute… le pressa-t-elle avec une voix chargée d'angoisse.

-Ne me pousse pas…

Elle souffla bruyamment, tentant ainsi d'expulser son anxiété, mais sans résultat.

-Tiens, tiens, tiens… fit soudain Mitch sur un ton victorieux. On dirait une sorte d'alcanivorax, une bactérie qu'on utilise pour nettoyer les marées noires. Elles mangent les hydrocarbures.

-D'accord, mais comment elle pu se retrouver dans le sang du loup ? demanda Niamh, bien qu'elle ait déjà une idée sur la question.

-De la manière habituelle. Elle s'est transmise d'un consommateur primaire jusqu'à un consommateur tertiaire.

-La chaîne alimentaire. Je m'en doutais. Vous pensez que cette bactérie se trouvait dans leurs proies avant eux, et dans l'alimentation des proies encore avant ?

-Oui. Mais on ne sait toujours pas comment la bactérie s'est retrouvé dans les plantes en premier lieu, pour ensuite être mangées par des lapins, des cerfs ou que sais-je d'autre… marmonna-t-il.

Et comme par hasard, la sonnerie de l'interclasse retentit à cet instant dans le couloir. Essuyant une nouvelle vague de stress, Niamh dut se tourner face à la baie vitrée et laisser tomber ses cheveux devant son visage pour que les étudiants qui commençaient à affluer ne remarquent pas ses crocs qui saillaient hors de sa bouche, ni ses yeux dorés, ou encore le duvet de fourrure qui poussait doucement sur sa peau.

-Vite… articula-t-elle difficilement entre ses dents.

-Attends une seconde, je crois que j'ai quelque chose.

-Non, faut y aller !

-Ouais, c'est bon, je suis parti, répondit-il rapidement.

Une vingtaine de secondes plus tard, il lui tapait sur l'épaule pour lui signifier de prendre la fuite en vitesse. Sauf qu'elle n'était pas encore prête à bouger. Elle avait pris dix centimètres sans que personne ne le remarque, tout le monde étant beaucoup trop concentré sur son prochain cours, et du sang s'écoulait de ses paumes alors qu'elle fermait étroitement les poings pour dissimuler ses griffes. Quand tous les étudiants eurent rejoint leurs salles de classe, elle s'autorisa à respirer plus librement et se laissa tomber par terre en se tournant face au vétérinaire, épuisée par sa lutte intérieure.

-Hé, ça va ? demanda Mitch, inquiet de son état, à tel point qu'il en oublia momentanément sa constante mauvaise humeur à son égard.

Les yeux clos et le souffle court, la tête posée contre la vitre derrière elle, Niamh prit son temps avant de répondre.

-C'est pas passé loin, cette fois… souffla-t-elle.

-Tu ne peux pas non plus contrôler le loup même quand tu es sous forme humaine ? s'inquiéta-t-il franchement en faisant un pas en arrière.

-Si… En général. Les émotions fortes comme la peur ou la colère, en revanche, affaiblissent mon contrôle. Et être entourée de gens qui me bousculent ne m'aide pas non plus, pas plus que me trouver en altitude, expliqua-t-elle avant de pousser un profond soupir. Enfin bon, on peut y aller, maintenant. La crise est passée.

Ils se dépêchèrent de redescendre dans le hall d'entrée de l'université, puis sortirent et rejoignirent Jackson et Chloé qui les attendaient un peu nerveusement dans la voiture, à l'extérieur du parking.

-Filer en douce, sans se faire choper par le prof, ça me rajeunit, plaisanta Mitch en refermant la portière derrière lui.

-Filons vite d'ici, marmonna Niamh, assise sur la banquette arrière en compagnie du véto. J'ai pas envie qu'on se fasse pincer maintenant…

Jackson démarra la voiture rapidement, et ils s'éloignèrent en direction de l'hôtel où ils avaient réservé de nouvelles chambres. Après y avoir monté leurs affaires, ils redescendirent au bar pour discuter de ce qu'ils avaient trouvé à l'université. Attablés avec leurs boissons, ils écoutaient tous Mitch les débriefer sur ce qu'il avait découvert.

-Et après avoir augmenté le grossissement au maximum, j'ai eu une… signature chimique. Une chaîne de molécules qui n'avait pas le moindre rapport avec la nature de l'échantillon, expliqua-t-il en sirotant un verre de whisky.

-Soyez gentil, mettez-vous à notre portée, lui rappela Jamie d'un ton sarcastique en buvant une gorgée de bière.

-Ça veut dire que la bactérie a été fabriquée, répondit Niamh à la place du vétérinaire, surprenant tout le monde. Quoi ? J'écoutais en cours de bio, moi. J'aimais bien.

-En effet, et elle a été signée par le chimiste qui l'a créée.

-Du coup… Il faut qu'on le rencontre, ce chimiste, avança Abraham innocemment.

-C'est pas si simple, rétorqua Mitch d'un ton las. Imaginez sa signature comme… un graffiti. Le fait de l'avoir vu ne nous dit pas qui l'a peint sur le mur.

-On est dans une impasse, alors, lâcha Jamie, défaitiste.

-Pas encore, les réconforta Mitch. J'ai transféré la signature à un chercheur du MIT, il pourra peut-être l'identifier.

Alors qu'ils replongeaient tous dans leurs whisky, bière et chocolat chaud, Chloé se rapprocha d'eux. Elle avait passé une éternité au téléphone, depuis qu'ils étaient arrivés, discutant vraisemblablement avec un de ses supérieurs pour décider de la route à suivre maintenant qu'ils avaient suivi la piste de la prison. Même s'ils n'avaient pas terminé leur enquête, la pandémie ne s'arrêtait pas pour autant, et ils devraient probablement repartir dès le lendemain pour une nouvelle mission. Et ça manqua pas…

-Faites vos bagages, on part tous à Rio, déclara-t-elle de but en blanc.

Abraham fut secoué d'un fou rire nerveux, accompagné rapidement par Niamh qui manqua de s'étouffer avec son chocolat.

-Ha ha ! J'adore ce job ! rit-il à gorge déployée.

-J'avoue… Ça fait trois fois en une semaine qu'on m'annonce que je dois changer de continent¸ j'ai jamais autant voyagé de ma vie, renchérit Niamh avec un sourire.

-Qu'est-ce qu'i Rio ? demanda Mitch, plus professionnel.

-Vous avez dit que si on trouvait ce que tous les animaux qu'on a observé ont en commun, on aurait peut-être une chance de comprendre ce qui se passait. Vous pouvez ajouter les chauve-souris sur votre liste, lâcha Chloé d'un air sombre.

Jackson fit la moue en hochant la tête d'un air blasé.

-Des chauve-souris, répéta-t-il simplement.

Et tous entendirent « génial, il ne manquait plus que ça… ». De son côté, toute hilarité avait quitté Abraham, qui se passait une main sur le visage avec lassitude.

-Elle fourmillent par milliers, à Rio, ajoute Chloé. En pleine journée.

-C'est bizarre, non ? demanda Jamie à Mitch, dont elle était relativement proche.

Mitch se tourna vers elle, et en réponse, fit la grimace en inclinant la tête.

-Qu'elles sortent la journée ? Ce sont des animaux nocturnes, mais ça s'est déjà vu.

-Et qu'elles se regroupent par milliers ? l'acheva Jackson sans aucune pitié.

-Ouais… capitula Mitch, son expression décrivant bien la perplexité dans laquelle il était plongé.

La sonnerie de son téléphone retentit soudain, et il s'éloigna pour répondre tranquillement. Niamh considéra un instant d'écouter aux portes, mais choisit plutôt de laisser son intimité au vétérinaire. En plus, elle voyait Jackson s'éloigner avec Chloé, et _ça_ , ça promettait d'être plus intéressant que la discussion de Mitch.

-Je ne vais pas aller à Rio.

-Jackson… soupira Chloé d'un air désapprobateur.

-Je veux trouver Leo Butler.

Et sur ces mots, Niamh décrocha, la suite d'arguments qu'ils allaient s'échanger ne l'intéressait pas. Elle attendrait qu'ils annoncent le résultat final pour commencer à écouter. Elle avalait une large gorgée de chocolat chaud et se tournait vers Jamie pour discuter de choses et d'autres, quand Mitch revint se joindre à eux après sa conversation.

-C'était le chercheur du MIT, il a réussi à identifier la signature.

Niamh haussa les sourcils et siffla d'admiration. En si peu de temps, réussir à identifier un chercheur juste à sa signature, c'était un bel exploit, selon elle.

-C'est un chimiste qui travaillait pour Reiden Global, ajouta-t-il à contrecœur, comme si prononcer ces mot lui arrachait la gorge.

Jamie sauta sur l'occasion et se leva d'un bond de sa chaise.

-Quoi ? Excusez-moi, cette multinationale qu'on me reproche d'accuser de tous les maux ? On parle bien de la même chose ?

Niamh lui adressa un sourire rayonnant, à la fois amusée par la situation et heureuse pour la journaliste, qui obtenait enfin un peu de crédit après des années à prêcher dans le vide. Elle la comprenait un peu, après avoir passé seulement trois jours à expliquer sa particularité aux autres sans que jamais ils la croient. Mais dans son cas à elle, elle avait rapidement pu prouver qu'elle disait la vérité, Jamie, elle, avait dû batailler pendant des années contre tous pour essayer de se faire entendre.

-Vous avez le nom de ce type ? demanda Abraham, sans perdre le nord.

-Oui. Leo Butler.

Après avoir légèrement espionné la conversation entre le zoologue et la française, Niamh était à peu près la seule à savoir ce que cette découverte signifiait, et cela déclencha une nouvelle vague d'hilarité, à laquelle se joignit gaiement Jamie, bien qu'elle ne rie pas pour les mêmes raisons, trop heureuse d'avoir enfin pu démontrer qu'elle avait raison.

-Leo Butler, répéta Jackson, pensif, tandis que Chloé lui jetait un regard en biais.

-Vous le connaissez ? demanda Mitch.

-Non, mais j'ai hâte de faire sa connaissance, répliqua-t-il en fixant Chloé d'un air déterminé.

Elle délibéra quelques secondes avant de lui donner son feu vert, et de distribuer ses ordres. Après tout, elle restait le chef de cette équipe, et c'était son travail de répartir les tâches.

-C'est d'accord. Jackson, vous resterez ici avec Jamie, pour trouver ce Leo Butler. Nous, nous allons tous à Rio.

-Euh, je préfèrerais rester avec Jackson et Jamie, si possible, annonça Niamh un peu gênée de contester les ordres de son « alpha ». On ignore ce qu'ils vont trouver, et je serais plus rassurée s'ils avaient quelqu'un pour les protéger.

-Nous protéger ? On peut très bien se débrouiller seuls, et puis t'es blessée, tu te souviens ? se défendit Jackson, un peu vexé qu'une fille plus jeune que lui veuille endosser le rôle de protecteur.

Niamh retroussa sa manche et lui montra le poignet qu'elle avait mordu jusqu'au sang la veille. Il ne restait plus la moindre blessure, ni même trace de blessure ou de cicatrice, simplement sa peau, claire et lisse, sans imperfection, sous laquelle pulsaient ses veines.

-Chloé ? demanda la métamorphe, le regard confiant, mais attendant toutefois la permission.

A nouveau, l'agent de la DGSE s'immobilisa pour réfléchir, en se mordillant la lèvre. La jeune fille pouvait presque voir le problème être retourné dans tous les sens dans sa tête, elle entendait presque les engrenages tourner dans son cerveau. Comme elle tardait à se décider, préférant probablement garder leur plus jeune membre sous la main, là où elle pourrait la surveiller et la protéger, Niamh exposa ses arguments.

-Je suis un loup, traquer une proie, ça me connaît. Je suis un ours, les affrontements violents aussi ça me connaît. Observer des chauve-souris dans le ciel, c'est bien moins mon truc. Je serai plus utile avec eux qu'avec vous, commença-t-elle avant de se taire un court instant. Et vous savez comme j'ai horreur de l'altitude et des endroits confinés, alors l'avion… ajouta-t-elle précipitamment en rosissant de gêne.

Chloé soupira longuement, mais finit par accepter la demande de la métamorphe.

- _Vendu_ , dit-elle en français, avant de reprendre en anglais pour les autres. Tu restes avec Jackson et Jamie. Quand vous aurez trouvé Leo Butler, tenez-nous au courant, ordonna-t-elle cependant.

Ils remontèrent chercher leurs affaires dans leurs chambres d'hôtel et se séparèrent en deux groupes. Chloé, Abraham et Mitch d'une part, et Jackson, Jamie et Niamh de l'autre. Ils se dirent au revoir et se séparèrent, avant que le premier groupe ne se dirige vers l'aéroport, en route pour Rio.

* * *

 **Merci d'avoir lu, j'essaierai de traduire le prochain chapitre rapidement, parce qu'il est déjà écrit en Français, mais comme je poste tout en même temps, je peux pas sortir une partie avant l'autre...**

 **Autre info, j'ai trouvé quelqu'un pour lire la fanfic avant de la poster, alors peut-être que si elle est OK pour prendre le temps de me relire, les anglophones auront une meilleure grammaire ^^'**


	8. Chapter 8 : After Leo Butler

**A/N : Sorry for the wait, I was distracted by many things (college, other ideas of stories, exams...). But here's the chapter 8, so if people are still reading, sorry again for the late...**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 8**

Settled in their new hotel room, Jamie, Jackson et Niamh were reviewing their investigation possibilities in order to find Leo Butler. The three of them had decided that Jamie would lead the group on this assignment, since her job as a reporter had taught her how to investigate. She handed them a handful of papers written with diagrams, Reiden logos.

"Word on the street is that Butler has been blackmailing Reiden ever since he went underground, and dispersing money to various charities, charities all over the world that give the money to people who've been wronged by Reiden", she annonced with self-confidence.

She was gleeful, though she hid it well. Finally they were admitting she was right not to trust Reiden ! Finally her crusade had appeared as legit to other's eyes ! Finally they stopped avoiding her gaze when she accused the company ! Niamh held back a smile and leaned on the papers Jackson was reading.

"Are these Reiden internal documents ?" he asked, raising his messy haired head.

"Yeah. I've made some friends over the years", Jamie explained, staring at him dead on. "Bloggers. Hacktivists, people under the stairs. But they got us these."

Niamh shared Jackson skepticism : if they got caught for hacking and data theft, the Apocalypse would have all the time in the world to destroy it before they'd be freed.

"This is… completely illegal", Jackson breathed out apparently disapproving.

Jamie shot back a sarcastic look at him, cocking her head, challenging him to give her in to the cops if he wasn't okay with her methods.

"I like it", he then continued hesitantly, the idea of breaking the law clearly not being his cup of tea.

Smiling, Jamie stood up from her bed and began again to search the large amount of documents scattered around her bed.

"Okay, well, we have to find him", Niamh sighed as she stared blankly at the tremendous amount of papers to read.

"I'm getting close", the brunette objected as she rushed to a certain pile of papers. "A guy's got to live while he's out there being Robin Hood, right ? It appears Butler has been paying himself with a portion of the blackmail money, routing it through shell companies with P.O boxes all over the Gulf Coast. I think with a little time and some luck, I can get his actual address."

Niamh let out an admirative whistle. Jamie was really serious on her job, when she had something to dig… Her smile immediately fell, though, when she heard footsteps in the hallway. She knew this pace, and she unconsciously associated it to danger, but she couldn't remind why, nor when she heard it. Her sudden palor didn't go unnoticed, and her irrepressible growl gave to the two others a hint what was going on.

"We have company", she simply answered, a mere second bedore someone knocked the door.

Jamie was the closest to the door, so she went to open it, rather anxious about the metamorph's earlier reaction, and found herself facing Shafer.

"Miss Campbell. Agent Shafer, with the FBI. We met at the prison."

Inside of the room, Niamh cursed between her clentched teeth. It was at the hotel, the day before, that she had heard this pace in the corridor. And just because she couldn't remember where she had this information from, they were in trouble ! She gestured to Jackson to help her hide the documents as she frenetically whispered to him :

"It's Shafer, help me !"

It had the effect of an electroshock on the zoologist, and he suddenly hurried up to shove the papers under the beds. Jamie, still not used to Niamh's super-senses, tried to warn them of the presence of the FBI agent so they could cover up evidence.

"Yes, of course. Agent Shafer", Jamie answered a little louder than normal.

Niamh heard Shafer wryly sneering with amusement and answering with phlegm.

"Oh, I see what you did there. You, uh... you said my name louder than necessary as if to alert somebody in your room of my presence."

"Yeah, my subterfuge game isn't so tight", Jamie retorted without excusing herself for a minute.

"Well, frankly, it's terrible", Shafer laughed nicely, trying to install a friendly climate.

"How'd you know we were here ?" she asked defensively anyway.

Inside the room, Niamh was wondering the same thing while she was hiding the documents uder her bed. God damn it, they had changed of State only the day before ! What the hell was that agent ? A T1000 ?

"Miss Toussigant asked me to keep her in the loop on the Evan Lee Hartley manhunt. She told me where you'd be staying."

Niamh, adrenaline rushing through her veins, clearly detected the agent's heart speed up slightly when he said that, and she deducted that he had lied. Maybe not about the the strict accuracy of the sentence, but about the reason that lead him here and his way to find them. Taking her decision immediately, she stepped next to Jamie in the corridor of the room and opened a bit more the door to look at Shafer too, meeting him for the first time. He was taller than her, about half a head more, and was wearing a spotless suit as well as he had short brow, perfectly combed hair. His features were sharp, with a square jaw and piercing eyes. The girl had to force herself to refrain from shivering in angst, as her worry was pushing her wolf to the outside.

"Agent Shafer. Come in, and you'll talk about this information you have on the manhunt, unless it was only an excuse to make us let you in ?"

"Who's this girl ?" Shafer asked, half curious and half arrogant, which only angered the metamorph. "Is she a friend of yours ?"

Jackson, who must have hidden all evidence, stepped next to the girls and pulled Niamh by her arm, dragging her back into the room. He also invited Shafer in, as he glared at the girl with annoyed eyes.

"Intern", he growled as an answer to the FBI agent.

"Well, isn't she a sassy one", the tall brown man retorted entering the room.

Once everyone was inside and the door closed again, Jackson spoke up again.

"So, have you found him ? Hartley ?"

"Uh, I didn't say that", the agent corrected as he explored the room, obviously looking for something if not only looking around. "I indeed implied it so you'd let me in. Your intern is perceptive."

Niamh couldn't help but to growl this time, but she tried her best not to bare her fangs, and she leaned against the wall, crossed arms. Even though she was like everybody, and liked to be proven right, she wished that this one time, she was wrong. Jamie let out a tense laugh, trying to break the tension.

"See, his subterfuge game _is_ tight", she remarked.

"But not enough for a sixteen-year-old…" Shafer grumbled, rather annoyed.

" _I'm twenty_ …" Niamh mumbled apart.

"What do you want ?" Jackson attacked straight as he raised his chin in defiance.

Shafer turned to face them, his hands still burried in his pockets, in complete control of the situation.

"What does Reiden Global have to do with the prison fire ?"

Jamie tried her best to hide her intensely reddening face, but she wasn't really skilled at that, her eyes clearly crying out loud her guilt. We could have expected better from an investigation reporter, though, more craftiness, more cunning. Jackson kept his arms crossed, just as did Niamh, both of them sporting a perfect poker face. Jamie tried a fake trembling smile in a poor attempt to appear casual and innocent.

"Why do you ask that ?" she asked, so uneasy that Niamh could smell her fear.

"Well, Reiden was hacked yesterday, and somehow… some of their documents found their way into your e-mail address…" Shafer trailed off with a latent threat.

Jamie vainly tried to refrain the grimace of the one caught red hands, causing Shafer to boost his confidence and supeiority. This assured him to have the upper hand on this tense exchange. And as for Niamh, the threats and menacing innuendos of the FBI agent, as well as his behavior and voice only managed to wake her wolf instincts. Her wolf instincts, and the instincts of the alpha that she was, and who really badly tolerated being defied.

"How-"

"We have a cyber crime division, you know. We're good like that", Shafer countered as he shrugged with a smirk. "So first, I find you scam your way into a crime scene at a prison, and now, you've hacked into Reiden Global. So how about you tell me what you're really up to ?" he continued, planting a steadfast gaze into theirs.

Niamh was struggling, jaws so tightly closed that her teeth were aching, to prevent them from turning into fangs. Her alpha blood was rushing through her veins with anger, and it cost her all of her energy to remain human while her animal side was burning to punish Shafer for his offense. It was a nonsense, he was a _human_ , and a human would never trigger the domination instincts of the wolf, but it was how she felt things. Her jaws locked and her fists balled up, she was trying so hard not to act weirdly that she was shaking and breathing heavily, faster and faster. And Shafer noticed it.

"See ? Even your sassy intern knows that you're screwed. Maybe you could spare her a custody, don't you think ?" Shafer added to use the emotional lever on his two suspects.

Though he was worried about being in such a tricky situation, Jackson was even more worried about Niamh, who looked like she was about to unleash all control on her and accidentally reveal her secret to another person. Plus, it wasn't hard to guess that she had no trust for Shafer to keep it… secret. He put a hand on her arm in a comforting gesture and spoke to her gently.

"Hey, Niamh, breathe. It will be okay… Just… think to something peaceful, I don't know… Maybe the snowy forests of Norway ?"

Well, nothing to loose. Niamh decided to play along with that suggestion and sank in her memories. First, she remembered the sensation of the crunchy snow under her feet, then the icy smell of the air. Then she remembered of several memories, coming back to her mind in disorganized blocks : the smell of the trees, of the bark and the needles of the pines, the odour of the frozen soil, the wind in her hair, the biting cold of the North ; her beating heart in her chest, beating in unison with the Berserkers' accompanying her, her paws running and lifting big packs of snow ; the long rests with everyone hugging each other in a massive ball of bear fur, bathing in a nice warm ; the swimming in frozen lakes, the huge bonfires, the days-long hinkings…

Niamh took a deep breath and took distance with her memories. Serene. She gave an appeased look to Jackson. She had taken control over her wolf again, everything as under control. He nodded and let go of her arm, before turning again towards Shafer, who followed their exchange, puzzled.

"Okay, well, you two will follow me. We're gonna find Butler."

"I'm coming too", Niamh stepped in.

"I'm not gonna drag an intern behind me. And you should be grateful that I didn't put you away for complicity", he threatened her.

She was determined, and she really had enough of his aggressive and dominator behavior, so she stepped in front of him and threw him a violent headbutt. His nose made a disgusting sound, and Jamie just squeaked in shocked surprise. Even though she went a little harsh on him, she didn't break his nose, so he wouldn't completely hate her.

"I'm _coming_ ", she repeated with unbending will. "Or bust me, we'll laugh.'

XXXXXXXXXX

The day after, they had reached Mobile, Alabama, and rented a boat to go to Bulter's hideout. They had managed to locate it, thanks to Jamie's clues and Shafer's support at the FBI, who finally had agreed to take Niamh with them. They had spent the previous night to track ghost mailboxes and fake companies, until they eventually found the chemist's hideout. They were sailing for half an hour now, completely silent, the quiet atmosphere only disturbed by the roar of the engine of their boat. Niamh rather enjoyed this stroll, this moment out of time itself, away from town and people. Wrapped in warm air, sun rays, river, plants and soil smells. It was all enchanting to her, after the stink of the polluted city.

"Hey, you know, you can't just arrest him before we've had a chance to talk with him first.

"Sure I can. In fact, I have to. Once I called the Bureau to pinpoint Leo's location from a list of P.O boxes, it became an official FBI investiation. Even has a case number.

"You have to give me fifteen minutes with him first.

"Loo, I already agreed to let you come along on this little boat ride. Now you're givin me orders ?

"A quarter hour, that's nothing ! We don't plan on stealing your criminal, we only look for answers !" Niamh stepped in.

If negociation didn't work, maybe pushing him a little would have more effect.

"Miss O'Connor, be glad you're not already rotting in a cell for assaulting an FBI agent and shut it", Shafer hissed. Miss Campbell just told me that Leo Butler's blackmailing a multinational corporation. It's a federal offense."

"Out of everything we told you, that's your takeaway ?" Jackson protested alongside Niamh.

Shafer warily glared at them for a moment.

"Federal crime, Federal Bureau of Investigation. You see the linkage ?" he snarled at them, showing his badge on his belt.

Really upset, Jackson took off his sunglasses to clearly show how pissed he was, and that Shafer could see his eyes.

"How about the fact that when this guy was working for Reiden, somehow Leo Butler created a bacteria that cause those wolves to attack a prison ?"

Shafer cocked his head in a condescending attitude that made Niamh internally growl. God dammit, she hated him so much !

"Let's see. Leo Butler, a blackmailing embezzler, invents a bacteria that accidentally creates prisoner-eating wolves. That's what you want me to tell my bosses at the Bureau ? That's a better takeaway ?"

Well, seen in that light (or whatever light it could be, by the way), their story was all too much unlikely to happen. And they didn't even talk about the metamorphs… Though she knex he was right, Niamh couldn't help but to feel the worry of her two colleagues and to share the same look of apprehension with them.

After a few hours sailing, Shafer stopped the engine and parked the boat in a kind of wooden hangar. Another boat was already attached here, and they guessed it was Bulter's. Niamh filled her lungs with the humid and moist air of the forest. Trees with fallling leaves and tall lush grass were scrambling the edges of a nice dirt lane that smelled like humidity and mold, just like everything next to this turn of the river, where water was stagnating and had a strong smell of mud. They already were becoming the target of a hive of mosquitos, diving towards them as soon as they had smelled their delicious feast.

After a few minutes walk, they found a dusty wooden house, that looked like a sort of abandonned research center. Discreetly, so Shafer wouldn't notice her strange antics, Niamh deeply inhaled the air around the house, looking for the smell of another human, to determine if someone was already inside. And indeed, rather well hidden under the smelly plants and flowers around, she got a scent different from theirs. While she was trying to know if the trail was recent or not, Jackson knocked on the door, which slowly swang open.

"Hey wait. We can't go in there. We don't have a warrant", Shafer objected.

Jackson shot at him a sarcastic glare.

"Good thing I'm not a cop", he retorted as he entered anyway.

"Like it would have bothered you anyway", Niamh grumbled as she followed his lead.

Tailing them, Jamie shrugged and adressed an amused face and an expressive look to Shafer : 'well, let's just follow them…'. As they walked into the house, even the humans could smell the strong dust odour overwhelming their noses, as if noone had cleaned up since an eternity, while they dropped their bags on the ground. A shady light went through the dirty windows, allowing them to almost comfortably detail the room.

What caught their eye the most, though, was a huge cage, two meters by two. Around it were monitors and computers, as if the cage was supposed to hold a test subject. Knowing that the person they were tracking down was a chemist from Reiden Global who had created an apocalyptic bacteria, it wasn't completely stpid to assume the cage was, indeed, meant for that purpose.

"What's the cage for ?" Jackson let out, expressing the collective thought.

"Damned if I know…" Jamie replied, also expressing everybody's thinking.

In the next room, they suddenly heard the hurried footsteps of a running person.

"God fucking dammit, I knew it…" Niamh growled as she sprinted outside first, quickly followed by Jackson and Jamie.

They got out of the house ony to watch the shape of a man running away, wearing a red square shirt and a jeans. He unfortunately (for him), ended up facing Shafer, who had stayed outside to round the buidling and cut a potential retreat to Butler. So the chemist spun on his heels and pushed Jamie aside, sending her against Jackson who prevented her from falling, and then ran full speed. Niamh's blood rushed through her veins. It was an irresistible urge, she couldn't suppress the carnivorous grin that stretched her lips, nor the beast-like growl that rumbled through her throat. She lunged at the running man and began chasing him, her hunter instincts kicking in.

 _God, it's been an eternity since the last time I ran after a fleeing prey !_ she thought gleefully, swiftly running behind the human.

Aware that she couldn't let him escape, though she was having a lot of fun, she sped up and caught up to the fugitive in a matter of seconds, once they were far enough from the others, and tackled Butler before landing a punch on his face that stunned him for a moment. Using his unconsciousness, she lifted him and set him across her shoulders before bringing him back to the rest of the team. When she emerged from the bushes, Jackson and Jamie wer arguing with Shafer to prevent him from going after Butler, even standing in front of him, physically preventing him to go. Maybe they thought she could have transformed during her chase, and wanted to protect her…

Still, when she walked into the house and laid Butler down in the cage before readying to answer their questions. If Jackson and Jamie looked like everything was okay, though Jamie seemed to have a ratehr hard time digesting her capacities, Shafer was staring at her very suspiciously. It wasn't common, teens that fast and strong.

"Don't ask, I wouldn't even answer", Niamh grunted as she closed the door of the cage, until their prisonner wakes.

"Hey, I'm the FBI agent ! This was _my_ line !" Shafer faked to take offense. "Well, I'm rather curious about this mystery, and I bet my annual wage that both of you know…"

Jamie tried to hide her feelings again, to no avail, and Jackson tightened his jaws, really upset. He aggressively crossed arms against his chest in a defensive stance as well as provocative.

"Yes, we do know, but as long as she does not choose to tell you, we won't either."

"Fine, fine !" Shafer withdrew with a slight laugh to loosen the atmosphere, his eyes still not amused, keeping their cold metallic glint.

The three recruits of Delavane shot back an unyielding glare, and he lost his smile, going back to deadly serious. He pointed an aggressive finger at them and stabbed each of them with this deadly gaze of his.

"I will uncover the truth. Trust me, I will."

In his cage, Butler started to stir, and they stopped fighting to focus on their prisonner. Shafer would have like to take him back to the FBI with him, but as it was Niamh who captured him, he agreed to let the others interrogate him when he recovered.

"Look, just tell us what you know about Evan Lee Hartley", Jackson asked as he leaned against the doorpost of the open cage.

"I don't know who that is", the chemist defended himself.

"Your name is written on almost every other page of his Bible", Niamh remaked with a sarcastic voice from across the room.

"Well, that's suitably eerie", Butler stepped out hesitantly.

"What about Robert Oz ? Robert Oz. Does that ring any bells ?

"Oz. No. Should it ? Are you gonna hit me too ?" Butler worried as he quickly recoiled when Jackson nodded in a more or less intimidating stance.

Jamie stepped between them, while she used to simply stand by and observe.

"Jackson, please…" she prevented him to act and stepped in front of the door. "Look, we need your help. Please, can you just talk to us ?"

Niamh sighed, bored out of her mind. She straightened and came closer to the cage, triggering a panic recoil from Butler, who cowered in fear on the other side of his prison.

"I'll go outside, call me if he decides to spill everything out", she warned before heading out under Shafer's questioning gaze.

The second she set foot outside, she felt better, less tense and in a way better mood. She breathed in longly, feeling her lungs with the delicious air of the outside. As she was about to walk away from the house to have a run in the woods, Shafer caught up with her and grabbed her shoulder, stopping her. She immediately shrugged him off, hating being touched.

"A word, please ?"

Niamh sighed again, but agreed. And instead of her nice run in the woods, she sat on the steps leading to the house, legs outstretched in front of her, leaning back on her hands. Shafer sat beside her, his arms rested on his knees.

"What do you want to talk about ?" Niamh said with a temper.

"How did you catch Butler ?" he asked bluntly.

"Running."

"And how did you stun him ?"

"Punching."

"Do you really intend on keeping answering like that ?"

"Yep."

Silence. Inside, they heard Butler speak louder, panicking, and then talk lower. Shafer grabbed a twig on the ground between his shoes and fidgeted with it, making and unmaking knots with it.

"I'll discover what you're hiding from me, you know", he warned her in a treacherous voice, both soft and threatening.

"If you do, I'll kill you. Just so you know it", she warned him back with a neutral face.

Another silence, heavier than the first one, full of hidden threat and tension. Shafer was clenching his teeth, annoyed that his badge didn't scare that much this insolent brat. He was about to fly more threats at her when Jamie showed at the door and called them out.

"Butler is ready to talk. You two come with us ?"

Shafer stood and motioned Niamh to go first, disguising it at courteousness, but she declined his invitation.

"I wanted to breath some fresh air, I'll go for a walk. I'll come back soon, just enough to move my legs around", she reassured Jamie who seemed worried.

"It's dangerous to go alone around here, you could slip and dive in the river, or being attacked by a bacteria drugged alligator, or trip on a root… You don't want me to come with you and have your back ?" Shafer suggested, all his suspicious cop bad intentions transpiring from his words.

Niamh suppressed a hostile growl and took care not to arch her back like the angry wolf she was.

"I can take care of myself. I grew up in this kind of wild place. I'm home, here, and if you try to follow me, I'll know it", she hissed at him menacingly.

With still the same artifical smile glued to his face, Shafer joined Jamie on the porch and Niamh heard the unsufferable FBI agent joke about her everlasting bad mood with the reporter. Even though her amused laugh sounded a little forced, the metamorph felt her cumbersome pride being damaged by it, and growled before trotting away from Butler's house.

Yes, she was the grumpy kind, but it was only because of him, she justified herself innerly. And, well, shit, she was right to be pissed ! The FBI nosing in their business, a bacteria driving animals mad, her Pack who could snap at any moment, Alves' blackmail… Fuck, she was completely right to brood !

"Fuck !", she swore, kicking at a rotten tree stump in anger.

Her heart rate was increasing quickly, and she felt the usual pression of her fangs against her gums, slowly starting to get from annoying to painful. She drew several deep breaths, cursing her half-breeding which prevented her from perfectly controlling her gift. If her mother had not cheated on her father, she would have been a young she-wolf like any other, she would still have her family, her pack, _her_ pack, _hers_ , which she would one day rule… Instead of that, she was thrown in the middle of a crazy story, hunting down a mad scientist who turned all the animals in the world into fervent anti-human activists.

Yes… her life really did go wrong at some point, but… If her mother had stayed loyal to her father, she wouldn't have been 'recruited' by Alves, she wouldn't have discovered this world wide phenomenon infecting the animals' minds, and she would probably have succombed it too, as well as her whole pack, without any real hope of survival or recovering sanity one day. And, to be really cliché, she wouldn't have met Chloé's team, or would have seen so many differents places. Besides, maybe that with them, she could find the cure to all this madness afflicting her and the other animals.

 _Maybe I could also learn how to control this bloodlust that overwhelms me when I transform_ , she day dreamed.

After a good dozen minutes walking, she wanted to go back with the others, not comfortable with the idea of leaving them with Shafer. Even though he was acting nice, she didn't trust him for a second. Quickly, she backtracked and found her way back to the house easily. As she got closer and closer, she heard loud voices inside, one being Butler's obviously worried voice. Something about sending him to jail…

She pushed the door open and entered the house, startling Butler who shot her an accusing and painful glare she only responded with total indifference, before sitting a little further from the discussing group.

"Ever wonder why Reiden is so much more successful than all of their competitors ?" he asked to the others.

Jamie vigorously nodded. It was her specialty to spit on Reiden, and if only the half of what they had discovered was true, then they –and even more herself– were right to attack the transnational company.

"It's because they have a vector that's better than all the others", Butler explained, his wide tired blue eyes like the ones of a demented person.

Niamh and Jamie exchanged a puzzled glance. Even if she had managed to surprise everyone the last time, about the chemical signature of the bacteria, she didn't attend science classes advanced enough to begin hearing about vectors… Shafer seemed to agree with her, and didn't let the occasion slip to make a remark.

"Okay. I'll be man enough to admit it. I wouldn't know what a vector is even if the Wi-Fi in this creepy shack was working", he commented sarcastically.

"A vector is a DNA molecule used to manipulate cellular material on a genetic level", Butler answered, rather annoyed at the agent.

There was a short silence, before Shafer opened his big mouth of his again.

"Still haven't gotten any smarter in the last five seconds", he taunted.

Niamh sighed with annoyance, just loud enough for the FBI agent to hear it and shoot a glare back at her, and took her attention back on Butler, who didn't stop talking to let them argue.

"It means they have a molecule that allows them to be faster, better, cheaper", the ex-Reiden searcher explained more precisely.

"Okay, then why doesn't everybody else just get their own ?" Shafer objected, and for once, Niamh agreed with him.

If this molecule was that much of miracle, why does only Reiden have one ? Did their competitors never heard of it ?

"Because they can't. Among other things, the vector is extremely rare. Outside of Reiden, you are the only other people who know it exists. Only a select few inside Reiden even know where it comes from. They call it the Mother Cell."

"Oh, that doesn't sound ominous at all…" Shafer summed up rather accurately the situation.

Niamh swallowed hard and stood from her chair before pacing in the room, pondering the information at her disposal, hoping to make something out of it.

"They discovered it about a dozen years ago", Butler continued. "Preliminary testing proved how powerful it was. By the time they realized the potential side effects, it was too late. They'd already invested too much money to back out."

Niamh stopped pacing and turned to face him.

"So it is this Mother Cell that fucks everything up, not your bacteria ?"

"No, that's what I explained earlier. My bacteria doesn't have these effects…"

"And…" Niamh tried to say, her voice dying his her throat before she could actually let out any word.

She had a lump in her throat at the only idea of his answer, and had to force herself to swallow and manage to talk.

"What are these side effects you talk about ? It changes animals' behavior, right ?" she uttered, her voice still shaking.

Butler nodded gently, as if he didn't dare to confirm the girl's fears. She seemed completely depressed right now, her usual grumpy face dropping and showing her actual distress, though she was trying to hide it, urged by her pride.

"Do you know where it is used by Reiden ?" Jackson asked, drawing Butler's attention again on him.

"Maybe you don't understand…" the searcher replied with a hopeless look on his face. "The Mother Cell is in _every single product_ Reiden makes. It's everywhere. It's all over the world, and it can't be stopped."

Jackson and Jamie shared a concerned look, and glanced at their youngest recruit, who dropped on her chair and began to more they dug, the more she realised how big this mess was. Slowly, they began to see through her grumpy shell of sarcasm, and see how fragile she really was and didn't want to show it.

Shafer noticed her behavior too, especially her sudden palor and hyperventilation. He also took note of the protective attitude of the two others towards her, when they got closer to her to help her calm and breath normally again. For a split second, looking for eye contact with the teen, he thought he saw a golden glint. He must have dreamt, though, because when he caught her eye again, he only found there her usual icy blue gaze.

Outside, night had finally set, the air was nicely fresh, and they could hear the nocturnal animals' noises as they woke up. The frogs and toads croaks, the stridors and the annoying buzzing of various insects.

Jackson decided to make things quick. Now that they knew what was the root of this apocalyptic mess, that they knew what to look for, he wanted to end this. He was a little nervous, and so it was Jamie who spoke up, to avoid stressing out Butler.

"No one is gonna hurt you. Just get us the Mother Cell and all of this will be over. We can protect you. Right, Agent Shafer ?" Jamie insisted on the last sentence, staring at him with an accusing look.

"Absolutely", the cop answered with his everlasting charming look.

Niamh, who was listening closely to his heart since the moment he joined them in the hotel room, heard it accelerate a little when he spoke. _Another lie_ , she growled innerly as she tightened her jaws. She didn't understand her hostile reaction. Usually, she didn't give a damn about humans, so why knowing that Shafer had so bad intentions about the chemist bristle her so much ? She suppressed a groan and crossed her arms. Though she tried her best to recall she despised humans, she couldn't bring herself to see Leo Butler as a simple human. And consequently, she couldn't bring herself to let him be crushed by Shafer. And despite the fact that it cost her, she remained silent, thinking it was better to keep quiet until they got rid of Shafer.

Jackson and Jamie stared pleadingly at Butler, silently imploring him to help them to put an end to the pandemic. Butler stared back for a long time, undecisive, until he finally agreed, once again.

"I keep it hidden, not far from here", he let out.

"Fine. We're going with you", Jackson immediately said, arms crossed as if he wouldn't take a 'no'.

"No. Absolutely not", Butler protested anyway.

Jackson stood before him menacingly and pointed at him with a vindictive finger.

"Look, you don't have a say in the matter, pal", he groaned.

With a smirk, Butler crossed his arms, convinced that he had the upper hand in this fake negociation.

"I certainly do. I just won't retrieve it for you", the chemist retorted.

 _Bloody hell, he really knows how to get on my nerves, this petty chemist !_ Niamh cursed innerly. She got closer to Butler, rage-white faced and stopped a few centimeters from him in a very aggressive and dominative stance. Despite the human instincts towards this kind of physical manifestation of hostility having been numbed by millenias of civilisation, Butler visibly recoiled and looked for help. Jamie jumped on the occasion.

"Niamh, don't worry, we'll find a compromise… What if I went with you? Just me ?"

"Bad idea, Jamie. I'm supposed to keep an eye on you two, and if you go with with, I won't be able to do my job", the young metamorphe protested, crossing her arms with attitude.

"It's the best solution. You beat him, Jackson was ready for the second round, and Shafer is a cop. I can understand that he isn't really trusting any of you", the reporter retorted diplomatically, but without drawing back from the discussion.

Niamh opened her mouth again, refusing to loose ground on the topic of protecting her colleagues, but was interrupted by the chemist.

"That would be entirely acceptable.

They exchanged suspicious glances, doubting of the honesty of the scientist who had worked for the transnational they were accusing.

"It would ?" Jackson doubtfully inquired.

"Entirely", Butler assured as he turned towards Jamie. "We'll take my boat."

Niamh grimaced at these words, but shut her mouth. The wound to her pride was still fresh, she remembered all too well Shafer's pique and Jamie laughing at it, though it had sounded a bit forced. It was stronger than her logic, and even if she wanted to keep Jamie close to protect her, she was still hurt and so decided to let her go. She sighed loudly, uncrossed her arms and threw her hands up as to get rid of her responsibility.

"Fine !" she spat bitterly. "Go have fun fetching this Mother Cell, we will stay here with Mister FBI, waiting for the weird chemist to come back nicely with a thing we have no proof of existence, hoping that he doesn't decide to kill you and run the hell away while we don't look !"

The bitterness in her voice struck Jamie right in her feelings, but she couldn't understand why she deserved such a bad treatment. She discreetly eyed Jackson, slightly taken aback, who only answered with an equally baffled shrug.

"Niamh, I swear everything is gonna be okay. Right, Leo ? You don't intend to double cross us, you want to put down Reiden too, don't you ?"

The chemist shifted his weight uneasily, really uncomfortable and his cheeks and ears slightly blushing.

The metamorph growled in a bad mood before walking away to the next room. She overheard Jamie bidding goodbye to Jackson and Shafer before following Butler to his boat. They started the engine and sailed away, until they went out of her hearing range. Closer to her, she caught Jackson's steady pace, who stopped behind her.

"What ?" she bit out.

"What the hell ? Why did you talk to her like that ?" he asked, as taken aback as the journalist was a few minutes ago.

"I heard her talking to Shafer, laughing at his jokes. I don't know if I already told you, but I have a rather cumbersome pride. I can't take insults or negative commentaries from my entourage… I know I sound childish and stupid. And I know I happen to be so… But I can't help it. If Shafer thinks I'm detestable, grumpy or whatever, I don't give a shit. But that Jamie laughs at his jokes about me and my attitude, even to be polite to him, it hurts. And Jorgen's blood tends to boil and rush through my veins a little too easily…" she explained between her clenched teeth, with both anger and regret.

Jackson had remained silent during her monologue, listnening.

"You weren't that mad when Mitch insulted you or let off steam on you, though…"

"No… You're right", she breathed out as an answer, deep in thoughts.

Mitch wasn't someone she didn't care of, and his jabs were real, they weren't only biting humor, she _should have_ reacted the same way as she did for Jamie… Or…

"I think… I think I trusted Jamie", Niamh whispered, almost inaudible. "I was expecting better from her, and it felt like backstab", she explained frowning, gazing at the emptyness of the air, while Jackson got closer to hear her. "Mitch always acted like that, I wasn't expecting any good from him, at least regarding these arguings."

Footsteps sounded behind them, and they spun on their heels. Shafer was standing in the doorframe and drew their attention.

"You're done with your secrets ? Can we go back to work ?"

"What do you mean ?" Jackson snapped back, frowning too, and arms crossed.

"I hacked into Leo's account. Now, he syncs his phone with his computer, so I can access the GPS on his phone", Shafer quickly explained.

"You hacked into the account ? What kind of a federal agent are you ?" Niamh asked aggressively.

He unyieldingly stared at her, and his face stretched in a sly smile that sent shivers up her spine and made her growl lowly.

"A good one", he finally answered. "Come with we", he invited them with a sign of the hand.

He walked back to the main room, Jackson and Niamh in tow, and stopped next to the cage. He had set up his computer on piled crates, and the screen was projecting a blue light on his face as he leaned on it. The night was totally set, now, and apart from the light of his computer screen, the room was dark and menacing. Shafer showed them a moving and blinking red dot on the screen.

"All right, that's them. If he's able to ditch Jamie and disappear with the Mother Cell, we can track him."

Niamh leaned towards Jackson, worried about the journalist though she was still upset at her without really knowing why.

"I should have followed them… If he turns off his phone, we're fucked", she anxiously whispered to Jackson without noticing Shafer's suspicious look.

A phone suddenly rang, and it appeared it was Jackson's. It was Chloé calling, Niamh read on the tiny screen, and she made way for Jackson to isolate himself and talk alone with her. Before leaving the room for the terrace, he turned towards Shafer and her.

"You know what, keep an eye on them, will you ?" he instructed them as he looked in each one's eyes.

This request had a double-sense : one for Shafer, and one for Niamh, who had to keep an eye on the FBI agent. While she kept staring at the moving red dot, she pricked her ears to spy on the conversation between Jackson and Chloé, and know if she had found something in Brasil. Unfortunately, her team and her didn't seem to have come to any major breakthrough. They were currently studying a bat, which was presenting the same dilated pupil symptom as Niamh, but they couldn't determine any info about it.

"Hey, are you listening ?"

Shafer's voice sounded loud, taking the metamorph brutally away from her eavesdropping.

"What ?" she spat with aggressivity.

"How did you expect to follow them ? They have a boat, and then they would drive."

"I don't know. I would have run, I guess", she grumbled uneasily with her arms crossed .

Shafer's brow arched, faking incredulity and astonishment, but his heart was slow and steady, giving away his true feelings.

"You would have run ? You can run after a boat, and then after a car ?"

"Everyone can chase a car, Shafer. It only takes two functioning legs. I'm just more endurant and faster than others", Niamh hissed as she distanced herself from the agent from a few steps. "As for the boat… I'm not a bad swimmer either."

"I'd really like to see that", he provoked her with a mocking tone.

"Nice try", she admitted with an ironic smirk that gave away her contempt for him.

She glanced at the outside, carefully and silently observing the dark quietness of the night, listening with anxiety every rustling in the bushes. Every noise made her imagine irrationally that a mad animal was spying on them, ready to lunge for their throats and contribute to the end of human species. On the range of her hearing, she hear Jackson's anguish about something on the phone, and she stiffened, before starting to pace around the room, her heart pouding heavily in her chest. Pricking her ears more intently, she only heard small shocks and hits and high-pitched cries she couldn't identify.

"Hey, you okay ?" Shafer wondered, having noticed her sudden agitation.

"It's nothing… I'm… I'm just worrying for Jamie", she mumbled biting her lip.

" _I'm sorry, I-I have to go_ ", Chloé said on the other side of the phone in a voice shaking with fear.

Jackson's footsteps sounded from the outside, then in the next room, and eventually got closer until he entered in the main room and glanced anxiously at Niamh. To hide their common anxiety and distract Shafer's attention, Jackson neared the computer and caught the gaze of the FBI agent.

"Any news ?" he asked, gesturing towards the computer with his chin.

Shafer sighed and showed him the screen with a wide gesture, leaning back against the back of her seat.

"They're still on the move. Looks like they docked his boat. Now they're in his car.

Jackson nodded absent-mindedly, and began roaming through the room to ease his boredom, until he met the front of the cage, deeply lost in thoughts and sizing it up and down.

"Jackson ?" Niamh breathed out tentatively with curiosity.

"Leo Butler's name is written all over Evan Lee Hartley's Bible", he slowly said. "Maybe something in here will tell me why…"

And so he began to search the crates, boxes and drawers in Butler's desk. Shafer stood up, looking embarrassed.

"All right, hold on. We don't have a warrant, so none of this can be used in court", he argued.

Niamh couldn't suppress a loud, really spontaneous, nervous laugh, drawing at her a death glare from Shafer.

"You're hilarious, Shafer", she bit out in a heavily sarcastic tone.

"Spare me the ethics lecture, okay ? You just hacked into the man's computer", Jackson added while keeping on his research.

Shafer sighed and held his hands up in surrender with a smile.

"I'll start on this stuff."

He joined the zoologist in his search of the piles of documents scattered evrywhere on the desk and beyond. They pushed aside dozens of papers, threw even more of them on the ground to make space, and fast-read hundreds of reports, graphs and research notebooks. In the dark though, they didn't work fast, their day sight being their handicap. Only Niamh was fending off a little better, her wolf eyes better adapted to the night.

After what felt like a whole eternity, blankly staring at tables, graphs, scientific words they couldn't even read out loud and Butler's personnal research, Jackson called the others. He had found something. He was holding a small notebook listing hundreds of names that looked like product names.

"What is it ?" Shafer wondered, relieved to take a break and rest his eyes for a minute.

"Looks like some sort of… inventory, of products that contain the Mother Cell. And how and where those products were used", Jackson muttered.

Niamh's throat felt dry, and she needed to swallow twice before making it back to normal. She shot a glance above his shoulder with anxiety at the notebook. Dozens… no, _hundreds_ of names were written down, and it was only the first notebook, if she trusted the marking on the cover…

"You're telling me that all of these products have this Mother Cell in them ? But this is everything from… dog food to weed killer…" Shafer breathed out, looking truly anxious.

"I know", Jackson replied, seeming affected as well and suddenly paler.

Niamh felt light-headed, black butterflies passing in her field of vision, and distinctly sense the blood leaving her face, making her slouch on a chair to breathe deeply. She had read on the notebook several applications of the Mother Cell that had affected her : weed-killer, fertilizer, GMO oat for the livestock, various medicines and drugs, toothpaste… She already knew she had been infected by something, that her behavior wasn't normal, but _see_ what had made her sick was something else. It shook her deep to the core. And this shit was absolutely _every-fucking-where_ ! The probability that the Pack or the Berserkers could fall through the cracks was decreasing from hour to hour as the team was finding new evidence of Reiden Global's implication, and about the width of the contagion.

She stared blankly, focusing only on her breathing, on keeping it steady despite her anguish, while trying her bestto not let her heart rate go crazy either and force her to transform. She closed her eyes and called back to her her memories of Norway, as Jackson had suggested her the last time. She could almost _feel_ the sickness expand its dark tentacles further in her mind and drawing her wild side outside.

Discreetly, while Jackson was shoving Butler's notebook in his back to work on it later, Shafer closely observed the girl who had walked away to calm herself. Why every time they found something she would panic that much ? Okay, the magnitude of this discovery was scary, but still ! She chased down a fully grown man in the woods without fear, threatened and assaulted a FBI agent without flinching for a second, and now, while they 'only' found a notebook and info, she would loose her mind ? There was something wrong… He narrowed his eyes.

She was panicking a lot more than Jamie and Jackson when it came to the Mother Cell, and though she tried to hide it, her anguish always managed to overwhelm her eventually. Putting aside their discoveries, he was also wondering about the capacities this girl had… When she had headbutted him earlier in that day, ha had been practically stunned, and when she had chased down Butler, he had seen her disappear so fast in the woods, before coming back with the man thrown across her shoulders like he was weighless… Of course, he could make the hypothesis that she was on drugs or whatever else, but she seemed a little young for that, and moreover, he sensed something else.

The FBI agent knew something was off with this girl, and he started to dig another lead. What was this secret she was keeping so aggressively, that was worth to to kill anyone who uncovered the truth ? Maybe she belonged to a top secret super-soldier program in another country ? Well, fine, but what country, then ? Considering her accent and name, he wanted to think to United Kingdom, but one of his contact in external intelligence, a bit too drunk, had once let slip up that overseas, they were late in that field.

He continued to stare at the teen until she opened her eyes again, raedy to face anything. He averted his eyes, not wanting for a minute that she realized he was spying on her

* * *

 **N/A : Désolée pour l'attente, j'ai été distraite par d'autres trucs (la fac, d'autres idées d'histoires, les exams...). Mais bref le chapitre 8, et encore désolée pour l'attente.**

 **N/A bis : L'écriture en français et en anglais, c'est super long, et je n'aime pas trop la façon dont je traduis le français en anglais, c'est lourd et parfois ça rend bizarre. Alors pour toutes ces raisons, je pense que je vais lâcher la version française et me consacrer entièrement à la version anglaise. Si j'ai le temps et la foi, je traduirai l'anglais en français, mais faire l'inverse me semble finalement une mauvaise idée. Le chapitre 9 est déjà écrit en français alors ce sera probablement le dernier où il y aura les deux versions. Je préviens en avance, et désolée à ceux qui ne lisent que le français et pas l'anglais.**

* * *

 **CHAPITRE 8**

Installés dans leur nouvelle chambre d'hôtel, Jamie, Jackson et Niamh étaient en train de passer en revue leurs possibilités d'investigation, pour trouver Leo Butler. Unanimement, ils avaient décidé que Jamie mènerait le groupe sur cette mission, du fait de son métier de journaliste qui lui avait appris les ficelles de l'investigation. Elle leur tendit une liasse de papiers couverts d'écriture, de diagrammes et de logos de Reiden.

-De source officieuse, j'ai appris que Butler faisait chanter Reiden Global depuis qu'il se cachait, et qu'il répartissait l'argent entre diverses organisations caritatives, et qu'il le distribuait à des personnes qui étaient des victimes de Reiden, leur annonça-t-elle d'une voix assurée.

Elle respirait la bonne humeur, même si elle le cachait plutôt bien. Enfin on reconnaissait qu'elle avait eu raison de se méfier de Reiden ! Enfin sa croisade apparaissait légitime aux yeux des autres ! Enfin on arrêtait d'éviter son regard quand elle accusait la multinationale ! Niamh retint un sourire et se pencha sur les papiers que Jackson parcourait des yeux.

-Ça, ce sont leurs documents internes ? demanda-t-il en relevant la tête, ses cheveux châtains en bataille.

-Oui, je me suis fais des amis avec le temps, expliqua Jamie en le regardant droit dans les yeux. Des blogueurs, des hackers, des activistes, ils font des trucs pas très réglo, mais ils ont trouvé ça.

Niamh partageait le scepticisme de Jackson : s'ils se faisaient attraper pour piratage et vol de données, l'Apocalypse aurait tout le temps de détruire le monde avant qu'ils sortent de prison.

-C'est… complètement illégal, lâcha Jackson dans un souffle, paraissait désapprouver.

Jamie lui retourna un regard sarcastique, penchant la tête sur le côté, le mettant au défi de la balancer si ça ne lui plaisait pas.

-J'adore, continua Jackson timidement, comme si l'idée de violer la loi l'enthousiasmait, mais pas trop non plus.

Avec un sourire, Jamie se leva de son lit et recommença à fouiller dans la multitude de documents éparpillés dessus.

-Y'a plus qu'à trouver sa planque, soupira Niamh en considérant la quantité monstrueuse de papiers à lire.

-J'ai des indices, objecta la reporter brune en se ruant sur une pile particulière de feuilles. Il joue à Robin des bois, mais il a quand même besoin d'argent pour vivre. Apparemment, Butler se paye avec une partie de l'argent qu'il leur extorque. Il le transfère par des compagnies écran à des boîtes postales de la côte du golfe. Je crois qu'avec un peu de temps et de chance, j'arriverai à trouver son adresse.

Niamh siffla son admiration. Elle faisait pas les choses à moitié, quand elle s'y mettait, Jamie… Son sourire retomba immédiatement, cependant, quand elle entendit des bruits de pas dans le couloir. Elle reconnaissait cette foulée, cette longueur d'enjambée, qu'elle associait inconsciemment à un danger, mais sans arriver à la remettre dans son contexte. Les deux autres ne les entendirent pas, mais sa pâleur soudaine et son grognement irrépressible leur mirent la puce à l'oreille.

-On a de la visite, répondit-elle simplement, une fraction de seconde avant que quelqu'un frappe à leur porte.

Jamie, la plus proche de la porte, alla ouvrir, un peu inquiète à cause de la réaction de la métamorphe, et tomba nez à nez avec Shafer.

-Mademoiselle Campbell, agent Shafer, du FBI, on s'est rencontrés à la prison.

A l'intérieur, Niamh jura entre ses dents en silence. C'était à l'hôtel, la veille, qu'elle avait déjà entendu cette foulée, dans le couloir. Et parce qu'elle n'avait pas été foutue de se souvenir d'où elle tenait cette information, ils étaient dans la merde ! Elle fit signe à Jackson de l'aider à ranger les documents tout en chuchotant frénétiquement :

-C'est Shafer, donne-moi un coup de main !

Cela fit au zoologue l'effet d'un électrochoc, et il s'activa soudain pour fourrer les papiers sous les lits. De son côté, Jamie, pas encore habituée aux super-sens de Niamh, voulut les avertir de la présence de l'agent du FBI pour qu'ils dissimulent les preuves de leurs infractions.

-Oui, bien sûr, agent Shafer, répondit Jamie d'une voix un peu plus forte que nécessaire.

Niamh entendit Shafer ricaner d'amusement désabusé et répondre avec flegme.

-Je vois très bien ce que vous essayez de faire, vous avez dit mon nom plus fort que nécessaire, comme ça vous alertez quelqu'un de ma présence.

-Oui, mon subterfuge était pas très subtil, assuma Jamie sans s'excuser une seule seconde.

-Très franchement, c'était nul, rit gentiment Shafer, tentant d'instaurer un climat de sympathie et de complicité.

-Comment vous avez su qu'on était ici ? demanda quand même Jamie, sur la défensive.

A l'intérieur de la chambre, Niamh se posait la même question alors qu'elle cachait les documents sous son lit : bordel ils avaient changé d'Etat seulement la veille ! C'était quoi cet agent ? Un T1000 ?

-Mademoiselle Toussignant veut que je la tienne informée de notre traque de Evan Lee Hartley, elle m'a donné l'adresse de votre hôtel.

Niamh, l'adrénaline rugissant dans ses veines, perçut très distinctement le cœur de l'agent accélérer légèrement quand il prononça cette phrase, et en déduisit qu'il mentait. Peut-être pas sur l'exactitude stricte de la phrase, mais sur la raison qui l'avait amené ici et sur la façon de les retrouver. Prenant sa décision immédiatement, elle rejoignit Jamie dans le couloir et ouvrit un peu plus largement la porte pour dévisager Shafer à son tour, le découvrant pour la première fois. Il était légèrement plus grand qu'elle, d'une demi-tête environ, vêtu d'un costume impeccable, et portait les cheveux courts et parfaitement coiffés, d'un brun commun. Son visage avait des traits acérés, une mâchoire carrée et des yeux perçants. La jeune fille dut faire un effort considérable pour contenir le frisson d'angoisse qui lui parcourut le dos et poussait son loup à faire surface.

-Agent Shafer. Entrez donc, et vous nous donnerez vos informations sur cette traque, à moins que ça n'ait été qu'un prétexte pour vous faire entrer ?

-Qui est cette jeune fille ? demanda Shafer d'un air mi-intrigué, mi-arrogant qui énerva immédiatement la métamorphe. Une amie à vous ?

Jackson, qui devait avoir fini de ranger les preuves, rejoignit les deux filles, attrapa Niamh par le bras et la poussa dans la chambre, en invitant effectivement Shafer à entrer, tout en foudroyant du regard la jeune fille.

-Stagiaire, grommela-t-il en réponse à l'agent du FBI.

-En tout cas, elle n'a pas la langue dans sa poche, répliqua le grand brun en entrant dans la chambre.

Une fois tout le monde à l'intérieur et la porte refermée, Jackson relança Shafer.

-Alors, vous l'avez trouvé, Hartley ?

-Euh… je n'ai pas dit ça, corrigea l'agent du FBI en explorant la chambre, manifestement à la recherche de quelque chose. J'ai effectivement parlé de lui juste pour que vous me laissiez entrer, votre stagiaire est perspicace.

Niamh ne put s'empêcher de grogner, cette fois, mais lutta de son mieux pour ne pas montrer les crocs, et s'adossa contre le mur, bras croisés. Bien qu'elle soit comme tout le monde et aime avoir raison, elle aurait préféré s'être plantée, cette fois. Pour détendre l'atmosphère, Jamie laissa échapper un rire tout de même un peu crispé.

-Son subterfuge à lui était subtil ! fit-elle remarquer.

-Mais visiblement pas assez pour une gamine de seize ans… maugréa Shafer, visiblement passablement ennuyé.

- _Vingt_ ans… marmonna Niamh en aparté.

-Qu'est-ce que vous voulez ? attaqua Jackson en relevant le menton avec défi.

Shafer se tourna vers eux, les mains toujours dans les poches avec décontraction, totalement maître de la situation.

-Je voudrais savoir ce que Reiden Global a à voir avec l'incendie d'une prison.

Jamie fit de son mieux pour masquer son rougissement intense, mais elle n'était pas très douée à ce jeu-là, ses yeux trahissant très clairement sa culpabilité. Pourtant, venant d'une journaliste d'investigation, on aurait pu s'attendre à un peu plus de roublardise. Jackson garda les bras croisés, à l'image de Niamh, tous deux arborant un visage lisse digne des plus grands joueurs de poker. Dans une tentative de paraître naturelle, Jamie esquissa un sourire de façade un peu tremblant.

-Pourquoi cette question ? demanda-t-elle, tellement mal à l'aise que Niamh pouvait sentir l'odeur de sa peur.

-Reiden a été victime d'un piratage informatique hier et… chose bizarre, certains documents ont été retrouvés dans votre boîte mail… répondit Shafer en laissant traîner la fin de sa phrase avec une menace latente.

Jamie tenta en vain de réprimer la grimace du coupable pris la main dans le sac, causant chez Shafer un boost de confiance et de supériorité qui lui assura davantage la main sur cet échange tendu. Quant à Niamh, les menaces sous-entendues de l'agent du FBI, son attitude et ses intonations lui hérissaient la nuque de colère, réveillant en elle l'instinct du loup, et plus encore l'instinct de l'alpha qu'elle était et qui tolérait très mal le défi.

-Comment ça ? lâcha Jamie, rendant les armes, consciente des preuves accablantes contre elle.

-On a un service de lutte contre la cyber-criminalité. On est excellents dans ce domaine, répondit Shafer en haussant les épaules avec un petit sourire supérieur. D'abord je découvre que vous avez monté une combine pour fouiller une cellule de prison, et ensuite, que vous avez piraté les ordinateurs de Reiden Global. Alors… Racontez-moi un peu ce que vous manigancez, fit-il en plantant son regard inébranlable dans le leur.

Niamh luttait, les mâchoires serrées à s'en faire mal aux dents, pour les empêcher de se muer en crocs. Son sang d'alpha bouillait dans ses veines, et cela lui coûtait toute son énergie de garder forme humaine tant le loup en elle brûlait de laver l'affront que Shafer lui faisait. C'était absurde, c'était un _humain_ , et jamais un humain ne ferait sciemment réagir l'instinct de domination d'un loup, mais pourtant, c'était ainsi qu'elle ressentait les choses. Les mâchoires verrouillées et les poings serrés, elle faisait tellement d'efforts qu'elle en tremblait et sentit sa respiration s'accélérer considérablement, ce que Shafer ne manqua pas de remarquer.

-Voyez ? Même votre stagiaire et sa langue de vipère savent que vous êtes dans la merde. Vous pouvez peut-être lui épargner un passage en cellule, non ? ajouta Shafer pour faire jouer la corde émotionnelle de ses deux principaux suspects.

Jackson, bien qu'inquiet à l'idée de se retrouver dans une aussi mauvaise situation, s'inquiétait beaucoup plus au sujet de Niamh, qui paraissait prête à relâcher tout contrôle et à révéler accidentellement son secret à une nouvelle personne, dont il devinait qu'elle ne lui inspirait aucune confiance. Il posa une main sur son bras en un geste rassurant et lui parla doucement.

-Eh, Niamh, respire, ça va aller… pense à quelque chose de paisible, j'en sais rien, moi… Les forêts enneigées de Norvège, par exemple ?

Ayant tout à gagner avec cette suggestion, Niamh décida de jouer le jeu et s'immergea dans ses souvenirs. Elle se rappela d'abord la sensation de la neige craquante sous ses pas, puis l'odeur glacée qui imprégnait l'air. Elle se rappela ensuite plusieurs choses, qui lui revinrent en blocs désordonnés : l'odeur des arbres, de l'écorce, des aiguilles de pin, l'odeur de la terre glacée, le souffle de la bise dans ses cheveux, le froid mordant du grand nord son cœur battant dans sa poitrine, à l'unisson de ceux des Berserkers qui l'accompagnaient, ses pattes qui frappaient le sol et soulevaient d'épais paquets de neige les longues pauses serrés les uns contre les autres, baignant dans une douce chaleur les baignades dans les lacs gelés, les grands feux de joie, les randonnées de plusieurs jours…

Niamh prit une longue inspiration et s'arracha à sa mémoire, rassérénée. Elle adressa un regard apaisé et un sourire serein à Jackson, lui signifiant qu'elle avait repris le contrôle sur son loup. Il hocha la tête et lui lâcha le bras, avant de se tourner à nouveau vers Shafer, qui les avait observés avec perplexité.

-Bien, vous allez me suivre, tous les deux. On va aller trouver Butler.

-Je viens aussi, lui opposa Niamh.

-Je vais pas me traîner une stagiaire dans les pattes. Et puis tu devrais être contente que je te coffre pas pour complicité, la menaça-t-il.

Déterminée, et en ayant franchement assez de son comportement agressif et dominateur, elle s'approcha vivement et lui colla un violent coup de boule qui fit craquer le nez de l'agent du FBI et tira un cri de surprise choquée à Jamie. Même si elle y était allée un peu fort, elle ne lui avait pas brisé le nez, de façon à ne pas totalement se le mettre à dos.

-Je _viens_ , répéta-t-elle, inébranlable. Sinon, coffrez-moi, on va rire.

XXXXXXXXXX

Le lendemain, ils avaient gagné Mobile, Alabama, et avaient loué un bateau pour atteindre la planque de Butler, qu'ils avaient réussi à identifier, grâce aux indices de Jamie et aux moyens de Shafer, qui avait capitulé et emmené Niamh. Ils avaient passé la soirée précédente à tracer les boîtes mail fantômes et les compagnies écran, jusqu'à enfin dénicher la cachette du chercheur. Ils naviguaient depuis une bonne demi-heure, maintenant, dans un silence assez pesant, uniquement rompu par le bruit du moteur de leur barque. Niamh appréciait relativement cette promenade, cet instant hors du temps, loin de la ville et des gens, enveloppée par l'air chaud, les rayons du soleil, les odeurs du fleuve, de la végétation et de la terre, qui lui ensorcelaient les narines après la puanteur de la ville.

-Vous ne pouvez pas arrêter Butler comme ça, il faut absolument que je lui parle, déclara soudain Jackson après des heures de mutisme.

-Bien sûr que je peux, répliqua Shafer. Et d'ailleurs, j'ai pas le choix. Une fois que le FBI a su qu'on pouvait le localiser à partir d'une liste de boîtes postales, c'est devenu une enquête officielle. Il y a même un numéro de dossier.

-Laissez-moi au moins un quart d'heure pour parler avec lui, insista le zoologue d'un ton presque suppliant.

-Nan, j'ai déjà été sympa de vous emmener avec moi, vous n'allez pas commencer à me donner des ordres, rétorqua Shafer en tenant la barre.

-Un quart d'heure, c'est trois fois rien ! On compte pas vous volez votre criminel, on veut juste des infos ! s'impliqua alors Niamh.

Si la négociation ne fonctionnait pas, peut-être que bousculer un peu l'agent du FBI aurait plus d'effet.

-Mademoiselle O'Connor, estimez-vous heureuse de ne pas croupir en cellule pour agression d'un agent du FBI et taisez-vous, persifla Shafer, dans de très mauvaises dispositions à son égard. Mademoiselle Campbell m'a dit qu'il faisait chanter Reiden Global, ce qui constitue une infraction fédérale.

-Et c'est tout ce que vous retenez de ce qu'on vous a raconté ? s'énerva Jackson, se joignant à Niamh.

Shafer les regarda un instant d'un air las.

-C'est une infraction fédérale, Bureau Fédéral d'Investigation, vous voyez le lien ? les railla-t-il en leur montrant sa plaque à sa ceinture.

Jackson, franchement agacé, retira ses lunettes de soleil pour bien marquer son humeur et que Shafer puisse voir ses yeux.

-Donc ça ne vous intéresse pas de savoir que quand il travaillait pour Reiden, Leo Butler a créé une bactérie qui est l'origine de l'attaque de cette meute de loups ?

Shafer inclina la tête sur le côté dans une attitude condescendante qui hérissa d'autant plus la nuque de Niamh. Bon Dieu qu'est-ce qu'il lui tapait sur les nerfs !

-Voyons voir… Leo Butler, une crapule qui fait chanter Reiden Global, invente une bactérie qui a accidentellement créé des loups mangeurs de prisonniers ? C'est _ça_ que je dois raconter à mes patrons du FBI ? Franchement, vous trouvez que c'est mieux ?

Présenté sous cet angle, ou même sous n'importe quel angle d'ailleurs, leur histoire était par bien des aspects beaucoup trop improbable, et ils n'avaient même pas parlé des métamorphes… Même si elle savait qu'il avait raison, Niamh ne put s'empêcher de partager l'inquiétude de ses deux collègues et d'échanger avec eux un regard plein d'appréhension.

Après quelques heures de bateau, Shafer les immobilisa dans un genre de hangar en bois auquel était déjà amarré une barque, qu'ils devinaient être celle de Butler. Niamh gonfla ses poumons de l'air humide et moite de la forêt. Les arbres aux feuilles tombantes et les herbes hautes qui encombraient les bords d'un petit chemin de terre sentaient l'humidité et la moisissure, probablement comme tout ce qui s'approchait de ce coude du fleuve, où l'eau stagnait et avait une forte odeur de vase. Déjà, ils commençaient à devenir les proies de tout un essaim de moustiques qui fondirent sur eux sitôt qu'ils eurent flairé leur délicieux festin.

Après avoir marché quelques minutes, ils tombèrent sur une maison en bois poussiéreuse, qui ressemblait à un genre de centre de recherches de fortune désaffecté. Discrètement, pour que Shafer ne remarque pas son étrange manège, Niamh renifla profondément l'air autour de la maison, à la recherche de l'odeur d'un autre humain, pour déterminer s'il y avait déjà quelqu'un dedans. Et effectivement, relativement bien dissimulée sous les puissantes fragrances des plantes, de l'humus et de l'eau, elle perçut un autre fumet que le leur. Pendant qu'elle déterminait si la trace était récente ou non, Jackson frappa à la porte, qui s'ouvrit toute seule.

-Hé, attendez, vous ne pouvez pas entrer sans mandat ! objecta Shafer.

Jackson se tourna vers lui, lui adressant un regard sarcastique au possible.

-Ça tombe bien, je suis pas flic, rétorqua-t-il en entrant quand même.

-Comme si ça vous aurait posé un problème, de toutes façons, grommela Niamh en lui emboîtant le pas.

En queue de file, Jamie haussa les épaules et jeta une grimace amusée et un regard éloquent à Shafer : « ben on va les suivre, hein… ». En entrant dans la maison, même les humains purent sentir la forte odeur de poussière qui y régnait, comme si personne n'y avait fait le ménage depuis des années, alors qu'ils déposaient leurs sacs de voyage par terre. Une lumière tamisée par la poussière encrassant les vitres leur parvenait du dehors, leur laissant une visibilité à peu près confortable pour détailler la pièce.

Néanmoins, ce qui attira le plus leur regard fut une énorme cage cubique, de deux mètres de côté, autour de laquelle étaient disposés des moniteurs et des ordinateurs, comme si elle était censée contenir un sujet d'expérience. Sachant que la personne qu'ils traquaient était un chimiste de Reiden Global qui avait créé une bactérie apocalyptique, ce n'était pas complètement insensé que la cage serve bien ce but.

-C'est quoi cette cage ? lâcha Jackson, traduisant la pensée collective.

-Aucune idée, répondit Jamie, exprimant elle aussi ce que pensait tout le monde.

Dans une pièce voisine, ils entendirent soudain les bruits de pas précipités d'une personne prenant la fuite.

-Putain, je le savais… grogna Niamh en s'élançant dehors en premier, suivie rapidement de Jackson et Jamie.

Ils sortirent en courant de la maison pour voir s'enfuir à toutes jambes la silhouette d'un homme, vêtu d'une chemise à carreaux rouge et d'un jean. Il se retrouva malheureusement nez à nez avec Shafer, qui était resté dehors pour faire le tour du bâtiment et couper une éventuelle retraite à Butler. Il fit donc volte-face, bouscula Jamie qui se tenait sur sa route, l'envoyant bouler contre Jackson qui la rattrapa de son mieux, et prit la fuite à toutes jambes tandis que Niamh sentait son sang rugir dans ses veines. Ce fut une pulsion irrésistible, elle ne put retenir ni le sourire carnassier plein de dents qui étira son visage, ni le grognement bestial qui roula dans sa gorge, et se jeta à la poursuite de l'inconscient qui avait réveillé le prédateur en elle.

 _Par tous les Saints, ça faisait une éternité que je n'avais pas couru derrière une proie qui prend la fuite !_ pensa-t-elle en jubilant, courant souplement derrière l'humain.

Consciente qu'elle ne devait pas le laisser s'échapper, et même si elle s'amusait follement, elle allongea sa foulée et rattrapa le fuyard en quelques secondes, une fois suffisamment éloignée des autres, et plaqua Butler avant de lui coller un coup de poing formidable qui le sonna momentanément. Profitant de sa semi-inconscience, elle le souleva et l'installa en travers de ses épaules avant de le ramener aux autres. Quand elle émergea enfin des fourrés, Jackson et Jamie étaient encore en train d'argumenter avec Shafer pour qu'il ne parte pas à la poursuite de Butler, allant jusqu'à se placer devant lui pour lui faire barrage. Peut-être avaient-ils pensé qu'elle avait pu se transformer dans sa traque, et qu'ils souhaitaient la protéger…

Toujours est-il que lorsqu'elle entra dans la maison sous leur regard, et déposa Butler dans la cage pour qu'il réponde à leurs questions, si Jackson et Jamie semblaient plutôt à l'aise, quoique Jamie ait encore un peu de mal à digérer ses capacités, Shafer, lui, la regardait d'un air franchement suspicieux. C'était pas courant, des ados aussi forts et rapides.

-Posez pas de questions, j'y répondrai pas de toutes façons, grogna Niamh en refermant la porte de la cage le temps que leur prisonnier se réveille.

-M'enfin c'est quand même fou ça, c'est moi l'agent du FBI ! C'est ma réplique ! fit mine de s'offusquer Shafer. En tout cas, je serai bien curieux de découvrir le fin mot de l'histoire, et je parie ma paie de l'année que vous deux, vous êtes au courant…

Jamie tenta à nouveau de dissimuler qu'elle savait quelque chose, en vain, et Jackson serra les mâchoires, franchement énervé. Il croisa agressivement les bras sur son torse, dans une posture défensive mais également provocatrice.

-Oui, nous savons, mais tant qu'elle ne décidera pas de vous mettre dans le secret, vous n'obtiendrez rien de nous.

-C'est bon, c'est bon ! se dégagea Shafer avec un petit rire pour détendre l'atmosphère, sans que son regard paraisse amusé, ni qu'il perde cet éclat métallique et froid.

Les trois recrues de Delavenne lui renvoyèrent un regard intraitable, et il perdit son sourire, redevenant mortellement sérieux. Il pointa un doigt menaçant sur les trois qui lui faisaient face, plantant son regard successivement dans chacun des leurs.

-Je trouverai. Croyez-le bien, je trouverai.

Dans la cage, Butler commença à s'agiter, et ils cessèrent leur petite querelle pour se concentrer sur leur proie. Shafer aurait bien voulu le ramener avec lui, mais comme c'étaient ses « invités » qui avaient attrapé son suspect, il daigna les laisser interroger leur prisonnier quand celui-ci fut totalement sorti de sa léthargie.

-Dites-nous simplement ce que vous savez à propos de Evan Lee Hartley, demandait donc Jackson, appuyé contre le montant de la porte maintenant ouverte de la cage.

-Je ne sais pas du tout qui c'est, se défendit le chimiste.

-Votre nom est écrit sur quasiment toutes les pages de sa Bible, lui fit remarquer Niamh d'un ton sarcastique depuis un coin de la pièce où elle était adossée.

-Eh bien à part vous dire que c'est bizarre… se dégagea Butler d'une voix hésitante.

-Bon, et Robert Oz ? Robert Oz, ça vous rappelle rien ?

-Oz ? Non, pourquoi, ça devrait ? Est-ce que vous allez me frapper, vous aussi ? s'inquiéta Butler en reculant précipitamment quand Jackson opina d'un air plus ou moins menaçant.

Jamie s'interposa alors, alors que jusque là elle se contentait d'observer.

-Non, Jackson… le retint-elle avant de l'écarter et de se placer devant la porte à son tour. S'il vous plaît, Leo, on a besoin de votre aide. S'il vous plaît, parlez-nous.

Niamh soupira, profondément ennuyée. Elle se redressa et s'approcha de la cage à son tour, déclenchant un mouvement de panique chez Butler, qui se tassa à l'autre bout de sa prison.

-Je vais faire un tour dehors, appelez-moi s'il se met à table, les prévint-elle avant de sortir sous le regard intrigué de Shafer.

A peine eut-elle mis un pied dehors qu'elle se sentit déjà mieux, moins tendue et de nettement meilleure humeur. Elle inspira longuement, emplissant ses poumons du délicieux air de l'extérieur. Alors qu'elle s'apprêtait à s'éloigner pour trotter un peu dans les bois, Shafer la rejoignit, l'empêchant de partir en l'attrapant par l'épaule. Elle se dégagea immédiatement avec mauvaise humeur, détestant qu'on la touche.

-On peut discuter ?

Niamh soupira mais accepta. Et au lieu de sa course dans les bois, elle s'assit sur les marches qui menaient à la maison, jambes étendues devant elle, penchée en arrière et appuyée sur ses mains. Shafer s'assit à côté d'elle, les avant-bras posés sur les genoux.

-De quoi vous voulez parler ? lâcha Niamh avec humeur.

-Comment tu as rattrapé Butler ? demanda-t-il abruptement en repassant à son tutoiement originel.

-En courant.

-Et comment tu l'as assommé ?

-En le frappant.

-Tu comptes me donner ce genre de réponses encore longtemps ?

-Oui.

Silence. A l'intérieur, ils entendirent Butler s'énerver tout seul dans sa panique, puis baisser d'un ton. Shafer attrapa une brindille qui traînait entre ses pieds et la tritura dans tous les sens, faisant et défaisant des nœuds avec.

-Je découvrirai ton secret, tu sais, la prévint-il d'une voix traître, à la fois douce et menaçante.

-Si c'est le cas, je vous tuerai, sachez-le, l'avertit-elle d'une voix neutre.

Nouveau silence, plus lourd et pesant que le premier, empli de menace latente et de tension. Shafer serrait les dents, passablement agacé que son statut et sa plaque n'intimident pas plus que ça cette petite insolente. Il s'apprêtait à reprendre ses menaces en demi-teintes quand Jamie sortit la tête par la porte pour les héler.

-Butler est prêt à parler. Vous vous joignez à nous ?

Shafer se leva et fit signe à Niamh de passer devant, faisant passer cela pour de la galanterie, mais elle déclina son invitation.

-Je voulais prendre l'air, je vais aller me promener. Je reviens vite, juste le temps de me dégourdir les jambes, rassura-t-elle Jamie qui paraissait inquiète.

-C'est dangereux de se promener toute seule dans ce coin, tu pourrais glisser dans le fleuve, te faire attaquer par un alligator dopé à la bactérie de Butler ou trébucher sur une racine, tu veux pas que je veille sur toi ? proposa Shafer, toutes ses mauvaises intentions de flic suspicieux transpirant de cette seule phrase.

Niamh contint un grondement hostile et s'appliqua à ne pas faire le gros dos.

-Je me débrouillerai. J'ai grandi dans ce genre d'environnement un peu sauvage. Je suis comme chez moi, et si vous vous avisez de me suivre, je le saurai, menaça-t-elle.

Avec toujours le même sourire artificiel scotché aux lèvres, il rejoignit Jamie sur le porche, et Niamh l'entendit de loin l'insupportable agent du FBI plaisanter de sa constante mauvaise humeur avec la journaliste. Bien que le rire amusé de celle-ci fut un brin forcé, la métamorphe sentit à nouveau son encombrante fierté en être touchée et fit la moue avant de s'éloigner encore plus de la maison de Butler en grommelant.

Oui, elle était plutôt grincheuse, mais c'était seulement à cause de lui, se justifiait-elle intérieurement. Et puis merde, elle avait de quoi être de mauvais poil ! Le FBI qui se mêlait de leurs affaires, une bactérie qui rendait fous les animaux, sa Meute qui pouvait péter un câble à n'importe quel moment, le chantage d'Alves… Merde quoi, elle avait raison de broyer du noir !

-Bordel, fait chier ! lâcha-t-elle en tirant un coup de pied rageur dans une souche pourrie.

Son rythme cardiaque augmenta sensiblement et elle sentit la pression habituelle de ses crocs contre ses gencives, qui commençait, de simplement gênante, à devenir lentement douloureuse. Elle prit plusieurs longues inspirations pour se calmer, maudissant comme souvent sa bâtardise qui l'empêchait de contrôler ses dons. Si sa mère n'avait pas fauté, elle aurait été une jeune louve comme les autres, elle aurait encore sa famille, sa meute, _sa_ meute, _à elle_ , qu'elle dirigerait un jour… Au lieu de ça, elle se retrouvait catapultée dans une histoire de fous, à poursuivre un chercheur taré qui avait transformé tous les animaux du monde en fervents militants anti-humains.

Oui… sa vie était vraiment partie en couilles, mais… Si sa mère était restée indéfectiblement fidèle à son père, elle n'aurait pas été « recrutée » par Alves, elle n'aurait pas découvert ce phénomène mondial qui infectait l'esprit des bêtes, et elle y aurait probablement succombé, elle ainsi que toute sa meute, et ce sans réel espoir de survie ou de recouvrer la raison un jour. Et puis, pour tomber dans le cliché, elle n'aurait pas non plus rencontré la fine équipe de Chloé, ni n'aurait autant vu de pays. En outre, peut-être qu'avec eux, elle trouverait le remède à cette folie qui l'accablait, elle comme tous les animaux. Elle pourrait peut-être également apprendre à contrôler cette soif de sang qui s'emparait d'elle lors de ses transformations, rêvait-elle aussi.

Elle avait marché une bonne dizaine de minutes et commençait à ressentir l'envie et le besoin de retourner auprès des autres, n'aimant pas bien les laisser seuls avec Shafer, qui bien qu'il essaie de se montrer sous un jour aimable, ne lui inspirait aucune confiance. Rapidement, elle entreprit de remonter sa propre piste et retrouva rapidement son chemin jusqu'à la cabane isolée. Alors qu'elle s'approchait de plus en plus, elle intercepta des éclats de voix à l'intérieur, dont une qu'elle identifia comme étant celle de Butler, manifestement inquiet. Il était question de l'envoyer croupir en cellule, si elle avait bien compris…

Elle poussa la porte et entra dans la maison, faisant sursauter Butler qui lui jeta un regard accusateur et douloureux auquel elle répondit par une indifférence totale en allant s'asseoir un peu plus loin du groupe qui discutait.

-Vous ne vous êtes pas demandé pourquoi Reiden est tellement plus performant que l'ensemble de ses concurrents ? demandait-il aux autres.

Jamie acquiesça vigoureusement, c'était carrément son domaine de prédilection, cracher sur Reiden, et si la moitié de ce qu'ils avaient découvert était vrai, alors ils avaient, et elle à plus forte raison, tous les droits de s'en prendre à la multinationale.

-C'est parce qu'ils ont un vecteur, qui est meilleur que tous les autres, expliqua Butler, ses yeux bleus rougis de fatigue écarquillés comme ceux d'un dément.

Niamh échangea un regard perplexe avec Jamie. Bien qu'elle ait réussi à surprendre tout le monde l'autre fois quand ils parlaient de la signature chimique de la bactérie, elle n'avait pas suivi de cours de bio suffisamment avancés pour commencer à entendre parler de vecteurs… Shafer avait plutôt l'air de son avis, et ne manqua pas de le faire remarquer aux autres.

-Bon, autant l'admettre tout de suite, je saurais pas ce qu'est un vecteur, même si j'avais du WiFi dans cette bicoque paumée… lâcha-t-il sarcastiquement.

-Un vecteur, répondit semi-patiemment Butler, c'est une molécule d'ADN utilisée pour faire des manipulations génétiques au sein des cellules.

Un court silence les sépara, avant que Shafer n'ouvre encore sa grande bouche.

-Nan, je me sens pas plus intelligent qu'il y a cinq secondes, railla-t-il.

Niamh soupira son agacement, juste assez fort pour que l'agent du FBI l'entende et lui jette un regard assassin, et reporta son attention sur Butler qui n'avait pas arrêté de parler pour les laisser se disputer.

-Ça veut dire qu'ils ont une molécule qui leur permet d'être plus rapides, meilleurs et moins chers, expliqua plus précisément l'ancien chercheur de Reiden.

-D'accord, mais alors pourquoi chaque labo n'a pas la sienne ? objecta Shafer, et pour une fois, Niamh était d'accord.

Si cette molécule était si fantastique, pourquoi seul Reiden en détiendrait-il une ? Ses concurrents n'en avaient donc jamais entendu parler ?

-Parce que c'est irréalisable. Entre autres choses, le vecteur est extrêmement rare. En dehors de Reiden, vous êtes les seules personnes à savoir qu'il existe. Même à l'intérieur de Reiden, très peu de gens savent d'où il provient. Le nom qu'ils utilisent, c'est la Cellule Mère.

-On est mal barrés, résuma Shafer, de façon plutôt exacte.

Niamh déglutit et se leva de sa chaise avant de faire les cent pas dans son coin, ruminant les informations à sa dispositions dans l'espoir d'en dégager quelque chose d'intéressant.

-Ils l'ont découverte il y a une douzaine d'années, poursuivit Butler. Les premiers tests ont prouvé à quel point elle était puissante, mais quand ils ont vu quels étaient les effets secondaires potentiels, il était trop tard. Ils avait déjà investi trop d'argent pour faire marche arrière.

Niamh s'arrêta d'arpenter la pièce et se tourna vers lui.

-Donc c'est cette Cellule Mère qui fout la merde, pas votre bactérie ?

-Non, c'est que ce j'ai expliqué tout à l'heure. Ma bactérie n'avait pas ce genre d'effets…

-Et… commença Niamh d'une voix étranglée.

Elle avait la gorge nouée à la simple idée de sa réponse, et dut forcer pour réussir à déglutir et chasser le nœud qui l'empêchait de parler.

-C'est quoi, ces effets secondaires dont vous parlez ? Ça modifie le comportement des animaux, c'est ça ? fit-elle, sa voix encore peu assurée.

Butler hocha la tête doucement, comme s'il n'osait pas trop confirmer les craintes de la jeune fille. Elle avait l'air complètement déprimée, son habituelle mine grincheuse laissant la place à une expression de détresse qu'elle s'efforçait pourtant de dissimuler, sous l'impulsion de son orgueil.

-Vous savez dans quoi Reiden l'utilise ? demanda Jackson, attirant à nouveau l'attention de Butler sur lui.

-Apparemment vous ne comprenez pas… répliqua le chercheur avec un air désespéré. La Cellule Mère se trouve dans _tous_ les produits de Reiden Global. Elle est dans _tout_ ce qu'ils fabriquent et qu'ils exportent partout dans le monde. C'est irrémédiable.

Jackson échangea un regard consterné avec Jamie avant de jeter tous les deux un coup d'œil à leur jeune recrue, qui s'était laissée tomber sur une chaise et commençait à faire de l'hyperventilation. Plus ils avançaient dans leurs recherches, plus elle se rendait compte du merdier dans lequel ils étaient. Petit à petit, ils voyaient se dessiner sous sa carapace de mauvaise humeur et de sarcasme une personne beaucoup plus fragile qu'elle ne voulait le montrer.

Shafer aussi nota son comportement, remarquant plus particulièrement sa pâleur soudaine et son début d'hyperventilation. De même, il prit note de l'attitude protectrice des deux autres à son égard, quand ils s'approchèrent pour l'aider à reprendre son calme et à respirer normalement. Un bref instant, en cherchant les yeux de la jeune fille, il crut intercepter un éclat doré, mais il dut l'avoir rêvé, car lorsqu'il croisa à nouveau son regard, il n'y trouva que la froideur bleue glacée qu'il lui connaissait.

A l'extérieur, la nuit avait fini par tomber, ainsi qu'une fraîcheur agréable, tandis qu'ils entendaient les bruits des animaux nocturnes qui se réveillaient. Les coassements des grenouilles et crapauds, les stridulations de toutes sortes de sauterelles et criquets, et les innombrables bourdonnements d'insectes divers et variés.

Jackson décida d'accélérer les choses. Maintenant qu'ils savaient ce qui était à l'origine de tout ce bordel apocalyptique, qu'ils savaient quoi chercher, il aimerait en finir au plus vite. Il était nerveux, aussi ce fut Jamie qui reprit la parole pour ne pas alarmer Butler.

-On ne vous veut aucun mal. Trouvez-nous une Cellule Mère et on vous laissera tranquille, on peut vous protéger… N'est-ce pas agent Shafer ? insista-t-elle lourdement en le regardant d'un air accusateur.

-Absolument, répondit le flic avec son éternel air charmeur.

Niamh, qui écoutait attentivement son cœur depuis le moment où il s'était joint à eux, l'entendit accélérer sensiblement à ces mots. _Encore un mensonge_ , grogna-t-elle intérieurement en serrant les mâchoires. Elle ne comprenait pas sa réaction aussi hostile. Elle n'avait rien à faire des humains, en général, alors pourquoi savoir que Shafer avait de si mauvaises intentions à l'encontre du chercheur lui hérissait autant la nuque ? Elle réprima un grondement et croisa les bras. Elle avait beau faire de son mieux pour se rappeler son mépris pour les humains, elle ne parvenait pas à voir Leo Butler comme un simple humain, et n'arrivait pas à accepter, en conséquence, de le laisser se faire broyer par Shafer. Bien que cela lui coûte, elle garda le silence, trouvant préférable de se taire jusqu'à ce qu'ils se soient débarrassés de Shafer.

Jackson et Jamie fixaient Butler d'un air suppliant, l'implorant muettement de les aider à mettre un terme à la pandémie. Butler les dévisagea longuement, hésitant, avant de finir par céder, encore une fois.

-J'en ai caché, pas très loin d'ici, lâcha-t-il.

-Parfait, on vient avec vous, enchaîna immédiatement Jackson, les bras croisés comme s'il ne tolèrerait aucun refus.

-Non, ça je ne veux pas du tout, objecta tout de même Butler.

Menaçant, Jackson se planta devant lui en le pointant d'un doigt vindicatif.

-Vous ferez ce qu'on vous dit, point barre, grogna-t-il.

Avec un rictus narquois, Butler croisa les bras, persuadé de sa supériorité dans ce semblant de négociations.

-Vous ferez ce que _je_ veux, parce que sinon, je n'irai pas la récupérer, répliqua-t-il.

 _Bon sang, qu'est-ce qu'il me tape sur les nerfs, ce laborantin de pacotille !_ pesta Niamh intérieurement. Elle se rapprocha également de Butler, le visage blanc de rage et s'arrêta à quelques centimètres de son visage à lui dans une attitude agressive et dominante. Bien que l'instinct humain quant à ce genre de manifestation physique d'hostilité soit particulièrement émoussé, Butler eut un net mouvement de recul et chercha de l'aide chez Jamie, qui vint à son secours.

-Niamh, ne t'en fais pas, on va trouver un compromis… Je pourrais venir, moi ? Seulement moi ?

-C'est pas une bonne idée, Jamie. Je suis censée garder un œil sur vous, et si vous allez avec lui, je pourrai pas faire mon job, objecta la jeune métamorphe en croisant les bras avec mauvaise humeur.

-Ce serait la meilleure solution. Tu l'as tabassé, Jackson était prêt à en remettre une couche, et Shafer est flic, je peux comprendre qu'il n'ait pas exactement complètement confiance, rétorqua la journaliste avec diplomatie mais sans se démonter.

Niamh rouvrit la bouche pour continuer à argumenter, refusant de perdre du terrain sur la question de la protection de ses collègues, mais fut interrompue par le chercheur.

-Ce serait tout à fait acceptable.

Ils échangèrent des regards méfiants, doutant de la probité du scientifique, qui avait tout de même travaillé pour la multinationale incriminée.

-C'est vrai ? s'enquit Jackson, dubitatif.

-Tout à fait, assura Butler en se tournant vers Jamie. On prendra mon bateau.

Niamh fit la grimace à cette mention, mais ferma son clapet. La blessure à son orgueil était encore fraîche, elle se souvenait encore trop bien de la pique de Shafer à laquelle la journaliste avait ri, bien qu'un peu forcée. C'était plus fort qu'elle, bien qu'elle souhaite réellement garder Jamie à portée de main pour la protéger, elle était encore vexée et décida donc de ne pas s'opposer plus que ça à son départ. Elle soupira bruyamment et décroisa les bras avant de lever les mains comme pour se dégager de toute responsabilité.

-Très bien ! lâcha-t-elle avec amertume. Allez donc batifoler après cette Cellule Mère, nous on reste là avec Monsieur FBI, à attendre gentiment que le chercheur bizarre revienne tout aussi gentiment avec un machin dont on n'a aucune preuve de l'existence, en espérant qu'il ne décide pas de vous tuer et de se barrer pendant qu'on ne regarde pas !

L'amertume dans sa voix blessa Jamie, qui ne comprenait pas trop pourquoi elle avait droit à un tel traitement. Elle jeta un coup d'œil discret à Jackson, un peu décontenancée, qui lui répondit par un haussement d'épaules tout aussi perdu.

-Niamh, je te promets que tout va bien se passer. N'est-ce pas, Leo ? Vous ne comptez pas nous arnaquer, vous voulez autant que nous faire tomber Reiden, n'est-ce pas ?

Le chercheur sauta d'un pied sur l'autre, réellement mal à l'aise et proprement embarrassé, une pointe de couleur sur les joues et les pointes des oreilles.

La métamorphe grogna avec mauvaise humeur avant de s'éloigner dans une pièce voisine pour souffler. Elle entendit Jamie dire au revoir à Jackson et Shafer, avant de suivre Butler jusqu'au ponton et à son bateau. Ils démarrèrent et s'éloignèrent, jusqu'à disparaître du champ de son ouïe. Plus proche d'elle, elle capta le rythme particulier des pas de Jackson, qui s'arrêta derrière elle.

-Quoi ? maugréa-t-elle.

-Qu'est-ce qui t'a pris ? Pourquoi tu lui as parlé comme ça ? demanda-t-il, tout aussi désarçonné que la journaliste l'était il y a quelques minutes.

-Je l'ai entendue discuter avec Shafer, rire à ses piques. J'ignore si je l'ai déjà précisé, mais j'ai un orgueil assez encombrant. Je supporte très mal les insultes ou les commentaires négatifs quand ils viennent de mon entourage… Je sais que ça sonne puéril et irréfléchi. Et je sais qu'il m'arrive de l'être… Mais je n'y peux rien. Que Shafer me trouve détestable, grincheuse ou mal élevée, je n'en ai rien à carrer. Que Jamie rie à ses blagues, même seulement pour être polie, ça me fait mal. Et le sang de Jorgen bout dans mes veines un peu trop facilement… expliqua-t-elle les dents serrées, partagée entre la colère et le regret.

Jackson avait gardé le silence pendant son petit monologue, à l'écoute.

-Pourtant, tu ne prends pas autant la mouche quand Mitch fait sa mauvaise tête et se défoule contre toi…

-Non, c'est vrai, répondit Niamh dans un souffle, pensive.

Mitch n'était pourtant pas quelqu'un dont elle ne se souciait pas, et ses piques étaient sincères, ce n'étaient pas de simples traits d'humour mordant, elle _aurait dû_ réagir de la même manière que pour Jamie… Ou alors…

-Je crois… Je crois que j'avais confiance en Jamie, murmura Niamh, à peine audible. J'en attendais plus d'elle, et je me suis sentie trahie, expliqua-t-elle en fronçant les sourcils, le regard dans le vide, alors que Jackson se rapprochait pour mieux l'entendre. Mitch s'est toujours comporté comme ça, je ne m'attends pas à grand chose de sa part, du moins en ce qui concerne ces joutes verbales.

Des pas retentirent derrière eux, et ils se retournèrent. Shafer se tenait dans l'encadrement de la porte et attira leur attention.

-Vous avez fini vos cachotteries ? On peut retourner à nos affaires ?

-Comment ça ? demanda Jackson en fronçant les sourcils, bras croisés.

-J'ai réussi à pirater le compte de Leo, il synchronise son téléphone et son ordinateur, alors je peux avoir accès au GPS de son téléphone, expliqua rapidement Shafer.

-Piraté son téléphone ? Mais vous êtes quel genre d'agent du FBI, en fait ? demanda Niamh d'un ton tranchant.

Il la regarda droit dans les yeux, inébranlable, et esquissa un très léger sourire qui hérissa la nuque de la métamorphe et la poussa à gronder sourdement.

-Un bon, répondit-il enfin. Venez voir, les invita-t-il d'un geste de la main.

Ils lui emboîtèrent le pas et le rejoignirent dans la pièce principale, juste à côté de la cage. Il avait installé son ordinateur sur des caisses empilées, et l'écran projetait une lumière bleue sur son visage alors qu'il se penchait dessus. La nuit était largement tombée, maintenant, et à part la lumière de son écran, toute la pièce était plongée dans l'ombre. Shafer leur désigna un point rouge sur on écran.

-Regardez, ils sont là. S'il abandonne Jamie et qu'il disparaît avec la Cellule Mère, on pourra le tracer.

Niamh se pencha vers Jackson, inquiète pour la journaliste, bien qu'elle lui en veuille toujours un peu sans trop savoir pourquoi.

-J'aurais dû les suivre… S'il coupe son téléphone, on est baisés, chuchota-t-elle avec anxiété à Jackson sans remarquer le coup d'œil suspicieux que lui lança Shafer.

Un téléphone se mit alors à sonner, et il s'avéra que c'était celui de Jackson. C'était Chloé, vit Niamh sur l'écran, et il s'éloigna pour décrocher tranquillement. Avant de quitter la pièce pour la terrasse, il se tourna vers Shafer et elle.

-Vous savez quoi ? Continuez à les surveiller, leur dit-il en les regardant l'un après l'autre dans les yeux.

Cette demande avait un double-sens : un pour Shafer, et un pour Niamh, qui devait garder un œil sur l'agent du FBI. Tout en gardant le regard rivé sur le point rouge, qui continuait d'avancer sur une route, elle ouvrit grand les oreilles pour espionner la conversation de Jackson et Chloé, et savoir si elle avait découvert des choses de son côté, mais apparemment, ils n'avaient pas fait de grands progrès de leur côté non plus. Ils étaient actuellement en train d'examiner une chauve-souris, et si elle présentait le même symptôme de dilatation de pupille que Niamh, ils n'avaient pas encore pu déterminer plus d'informations à son sujet.

-Hé, tu m'écoutes ?

La voix de Shafer avait retenti plus fort, arrachant la métamorphe à son espionnage téléphonique.

-Quoi ? rétorqua-t-elle un peu vivement.

-Comment tu espérais les suivre ? Ils sont en bateau, et après ils prendront la voiture.

-J'en sais rien. J'aurais couru, j'imagine, maugréa Niamh, mal à l'aise et les bras croisés.

Shafer haussa les sourcils, feignant l'incrédulité et l'étonnement, mais son cœur battait lentement, contrastant avec sa comédie.

-Couru ? Tu peux courir derrière un bateau, et ensuite derrière une voiture ?

-Tout le monde peut courir derrière une voiture, Shafer . Il suffit de deux jambes en état de marche. C'est juste que je suis plus endurante et plus rapide que les autres, persifla Niamh en s'éloignant de l'agent du FBI de quelques pas. Quant au bateau… je ne suis pas mauvaise nageuse non plus.

-J'aimerais bien voir ça, tiens, la provoqua-t-il d'un ton moqueur.

-Bien tenté, lui accorda-t-elle avec un rictus ironique qui traduisait tout son mépris.

Elle jeta un coup d'œil dehors, observant en silence le calme obscur de la nuit, écoutant avec une légère inquiétude les bruissements nocturnes, imaginant à chaque instant qu'un animal fou les observait, prêt à leur sauter à la gorge et contribuer à l'extinction de l'espèce humaine. Du coin de l'oreille, elle entendit Jackson s'angoisser au téléphone et se tendit, avant de commencer à faire les cent pas, le cœur battant. En tendant l'oreille plus intensément, elle entendit seulement de petits chocs et criaillements aigus qu'elle ne parvint pas à identifier.

-Hé, ça va pas ? demanda Shafer, ayant noté son agitation soudaine.

-C'est rien… Je m'inquiète juste pour Jamie, marmonna-t-elle en se mordant la lèvre.

- _Je… Je suis désolée, je dois raccrocher_ , dit Chloé à l'autre bout du fil d'une voix tremblante de frayeur.

Les pas de Jackson commencèrent à retentir dans la pièce voisine, puis se rapprochèrent jusqu'à ce qu'il entre dans la pièce principale et échange un regard inquiet avec Niamh. Pour dissimuler leur angoisse commune et détourner l'attention de Shafer, Jackson s'approcha et accrocha le regard de l'agent du FBI.

-Alors, du nouveau ? demanda-t-il en pointant l'ordinateur du menton.

Shafer soupira et lui montra l'écran d'un geste ample de la main en s'appuyant contre le dossier de sa chaise.

-Ils continuent à se déplacer. Ils ont quitté le bateau et ils ont pris la voiture, expliqua-t-il avec un rictus contrarié.

Jackson hocha la tête distraitement, et commença à se promener dans la pièce pour tromper son inquiétude, jusqu'à se retrouver devant la cage, l'observant de haut en bas et l'air perdu dans ses pensées.

-Jackson ? osa Niamh dans un souffle, curieuse.

-Le nom de Leo Butler est écrit sur presque toutes les pages de la Bible d'Evan Lee Hartley, commença-t-il lentement. Peut-être qu'ici je vais trouver une explication…

Et il commença à fouiller les cartons et tiroirs de Bulter, alors que Shafer se levait et protestait contre ses méthodes.

-Aah, attendez, on n'a pas de mandat. On ne pourrait rien utiliser devant la Justice, argumenta-t-il.

Niamh ne put s'en empêcher, elle laissa échapper un rire nerveux qui lui attira un regard assassin de la part de Shafer.

-Morte de rire, Shafer, lâcha-t-elle d'un ton sarcastique.

-Epargnez-nous vos cours de déontologie, c'est pas nous qui avons piraté son ordinateur, renchérit Jackson en poursuivant ses recherches.

Shafer soupira et leva les mains en signe de reddition avec un sourire.

-Ok, je plaide coupable.

Il se joignit au zoologue pour fouiller les piles de documents éparpillés un peu partout sur le plan de travail. Ils soulevèrent des dizaines de feuilles volantes, en jetèrent tout autant par terre pour faire de la place, et virent défiler des dizaines de rapports, de graphiques et de carnets de recherches. Avec l'obscurité de la pièce, cependant, ils n'avançaient pas bien rapidement, handicapés par leur vue diurne. Seule Niamh s'en sortait un peu mieux, ses yeux de loup mieux adaptés à la nuit que ceux des humains.

Après ce qui leur parut une éternité à regarder d'un œil vitreux les tableaux, graphiques, mots scientifiques compliqués et les recherches de Butler, Jackson attira l'attention des deux autres. Il tenait dans ses mains un petit calepin qui listait des dizaines et des dizaines de noms qui ressemblaient à des noms de produits.

-Qu'est-ce qu'il y a ? s'enquit Shafer, soulagé de pouvoir faire une pause et reposer ses yeux un instant.

-On dirait que c'est une sorte de… d'inventaire des produits qui contiennent la Cellule Mère, des endroits où on les trouve, et les manières dont ces produits ont été utilisés, dit Jackson d'une voix blanche.

Niamh déglutit et jeta un coup d'œil par-dessus son épaule avec anxiété. Des dizaines, non, des _centaines_ de noms étaient inscrits, et ce n'était que le premier carnet, si elle en croyait l'inscription sur la couverture…

-Vous voulez dire que _tout ça_ contient de la Cellule Mère ? Mais il y a de tout, là-dedans, depuis la nourriture pour chien jusqu'à l'herbicide… souffla Shafer, l'air véritablement angoissé.

-Je sais, répondit Jackson, l'air tout aussi affecté, et subitement plus pâle.

Niamh commença à se sentir mal, des vertiges lui faisant voir des papillons noirs, et perçut très nettement le sang quitter son visage, la forçant à se laisser tomber sur une chaise pour respirer profondément. Elle avait vu sur le calepin un certain nombre d'application de la Cellule Mère qui l'avaient affectée : des herbicides, de l'engrais, du foin OGM pour bétail, des médicaments divers et variés, du dentifrice… Elle savait déjà qu'elle avait été infectée par quelque chose, que son comportement n'était pas normal, mais _voir_ ce qui l'avait rendue malade l'avait grandement déstabilisée. Et cette saloperie se retrouvait absolument _partout_ ! Le pourcentage de chance que la Meute ou les Bersekers s'en tirent sans être touchés se réduisait drastiquement d'heure en heure à mesure que l'équipe découvrait de nouveaux indices de l'implication de Reiden Global, et de l'ampleur de la contagion.

Elle fixa son regard dans le vide, se concentrant uniquement sur sa respiration, qu'elle s'appliquait à garder régulière et calme malgré son angoisse, tout en faisant également de son mieux pour ne pas laisser son cœur s'emballer et forcer la transformation sans son accord. Elle ferma les yeux et appela à elle ses souvenirs de Norvège pour apaiser son esprit et son corps. Elle pouvait presque _sentir_ la maladie progresser dans son esprit, étendre ses tentacules obscurs plus profondément dans son cerveau et faire ressortir son côté sauvage.

Discrètement, alors que Jackson fourrait le carnet de Butler dans son sac pour pouvoir travailler dessus plus tard, Shafer observait la jeune fille, qui s'était éloignée d'eux pour se calmer. Pourquoi est-ce qu'à chaque fois qu'ils faisaient un pas de plus vers la vérité, elle paniquait autant ? D'accord, l'ampleur de leur découverte avait quelque chose de sacrément inquiétant, mais tout de même ! Elle coursait un homme dans les bois sans crainte, agressait et menaçait un agent du FBI sans se démonter, et là, alors qu'ils n'avaient fait que trouver quelques infos, elle perdait tous ses moyens ? C'était louche. Il plissa les yeux.

Elle paniquait beaucoup plus que Jamie et Jackson quand on parlait de la Cellule Mère, et bien qu'elle essaie de le dissimuler, son inquiétude finissait toujours par la submerger. Et sans parler de leurs découvertes, il s'interrogeait sur les capacités de cette fille… Quand elle lui avait mis un coup de boule, plus tôt dans la journée, il avait été pratiquement sonné, et quand elle avait poursuivi Butler, il l'avait vue disparaître si vite, et elle l'avait ramené en le portant sur son épaule, comme s'il ne pesait rien… Evidemment, il pouvait postuler qu'elle était sous stéroïdes ou quoi que ce soit d'autre, mais non seulement elle lui paraissait un peu jeune pour ça, mais en plus, il pressentait quelque chose d'autre.

L'agent du FBI en lui flairait l'embrouille, et il commença à creuser mentalement une autre piste. Quel était ce secret qu'elle gardait qui valait la mort de quiconque le découvrait ? Peut-être appartenait-elle à un programme de super-soldat top secret d'un autre pays ? Certes, mais alors quel pays ? A son accent, il avait tendance à penser au Royaume-Uni, mais un de ses contacts dans les renseignements avait laissé échapper une fois, un peu éméché, qu'outre Atlantique, ils étaient un peu en retard sur le sujet.

Il contina à observer la jeune fille jusqu'à ce qu'elle rouvre les yeux, paraissant apaisée et prête à en découdre. Il détourna le regard, n'ayant pas envie qu'elle s'aperçoive qu'il la fixait.


	9. Chapter 9 : Finding Evan Lee Hartley

**A/N : Sorry for the long wait, I was passing finals, and an important entrance exam. Unfortunately I wasn't received u_u I'll try again next year ^^ Anyway, I'll keep updating until I reach the end of season 1 at least. I have plenty of ideas, and this story is a good way to learn to improve my english. So please, if you notice huge mistakes or are just a grammar maniac, don't hesitate to make remarks.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 9**

They spent the whole night searching through Butler's files, but the only interesting thing they found was his notebook, listing the Reiden's products that contained the Mother Cell. Tired, but most of all worried for Jamie, who wasn't giving any news, Niamh started to pace the room, cursing against the scientist and his stupid plan. In the background of her anger though, was another emotion eating her up. She shouldn't have been so aggressive at the journalist earlier… According to Leo's GPS and Shafer's computer, the car had been still for about an hour, before driving again for a hundred meters, before stopping again. It was still static, and the sun was rising.

Niamh was worried sick and pacing Butler's shack like a lion in its cage, and couldn't stop but thinking about Jamie and what could have happened to her. Her stress was contagious. Jackson was wringing his hands and sighed a lot, trying to suppress his anxiety, while he often glanced anxiously at the girl. Shafer was sitting on a pile of crates and was spinning his phone between his fingers to keep himself busy, while he stared blankly at his computer screen.

Eventually, Niamh stopped brutally and stood in front of the agent of FBI. She glued her eyes in his, unwavering, challenging him to defy her.

"I'm going to look for Jamie. You can stay here if you want, but I'm very worried", she growled. "Jackson, coming with me ?"

"Yep", he agreed as he grabbed their bags, relieved to finally act.

"I come with you too. I'm not gonna let my suspect escape like that, and I won't let _you_ roam freely without surveillance", Shafer added while he gathered his material.

Once they were in the boat, and then in the car, Niamh's anxiety started to decrease. They were doing something, they were finally moving. She hated staying passive in this kind of situation. As they were getting closer of Jamie and Leo's location, she began to see lights and beacons in the far. Her fear crawled back in her heart as she grasped the edges of her seat, panicked at the idea of what meant the red and blue beacons. And indeed, when they pulled the car over, they discovered a grim sight. Butler's car was upside down and the driver's side was caving inside like it was rammed into by another vehicle. As soon as Shafer stopped the engine, Niamh bounced out of the car and ran towards a silhouette sitting at the back of an ambulance.

"Jamie !" she exclaimed, relief clearly audible in her voice.

A medic was taking care of the reporter, disinfecting the cut she had on her forehead. When he noticed the metamorph coming, he tried to prevent her from getting closer.

"Miss, I'm sorry but you can't stay…"

"FBI. Give us a minute", Shafer intervened, swinging his badge around, a few steps behind Niamh.

The medic nodded and walked away, letting Niamh, Jackson and Shafer circle her. Jackson crouched next to her, while Niamh sat on her left, on the footboard of the ambulance.

"Hey… You okay ?" Jackson queried with concern.

"No, I'm not okay. I lost it", Jamie angrilly and distressfully retorted.

"You lost what ?" Shafer asked frowning, hands it his pockets.

Jamie averted her eyes, as if she was fleeing their judgement, or to remember the events. She narrowed her eyes, deep in her memories.

"Leo and I were driving back. He had the Mother Cell out of the woods somewhere. It took forever, but… he was telling me about the boat he was gonna buy. And uh…"

She trailed off, as a stretcher passed by them, a human shape draped in a bodybag lying on it. She didn't need words to make them understand the situation. Their chemist and informer was definitely out of the game. Niamh pinched her lips, accusing herself. She wasn't there, she didn't fulfill her role of protector. On the other hand, what could she have done ? The car had been rammed into by another vehicle, she would have been of no use, and maybe she would have died in the accident… Despite that, she couldn't help but feel guilty.

"Something just rammed into us", Jamie continued without noticing the guilt of her young colleague. "The last thing I remember seeing is Evan Lee Hartley's face."

Jackson paled and his worry suddenly wrinkled his face.

"Whoa. Are you sure it was him ?"

"He took it. He took the Mother Cell", Jamie replied blankly, as if all hope was lost.

Jackson held her gaze, giving her all the support he could. He believed her, he trusted her, and wanted it to be clear. She didn't need to try to convince him. She seemed to relax slightly, and she slouched her shoulders, as a small sad smile cracked on her lips.

"Okay…", Shafer let out casually. "We'll deal with it. It's gonna be all right."

"On what planet is it gonna be all right ?" Jamie bitterly protested, and slightly bewildered.

Shafer didn't take any offense of her behavior, keeping a straight face, and walked off.

"I'm gonna call this in to the marshal's office."

As he walked away, Niamh got closer to Jamie, both worried and relieved. Since she had been bannished from her pack, she wasn't as cuddly as before, she was more of a loner. But now, she had only one thing in her mind : hug Jamie, hold her tight with relief. She didn't act on it, though, scared of her reaction. She just escaped death, and she seemed utterly destroyed by Leo's death and Hartley disappearing with the Mother Cell. She wasn't emotionnaly ready for a hug.

"It's not your fault", she whispered instead. "What I see, is that you're alive, and _that_ is the most important."

Gathering her courage, she finally put her arm behind Jamie's shoulders and pulled her closer with a sympathetic gaze. Jamie immediately broke free from her hold, her face distorted with anger and bitterness.

"No, it's not ! Evan Lee has the Mother Cell, Niamh ! And we have no idea what he's gonna do with it."

"We will find him. He won't get away, I promise you", the metamorph reassured her.

She was thinking about following Hartley's trail with her sense of smell, but too many obstacles were preventing her to do so. She was under her human form, and track a prey like that was a lot harder. She couldn't transform without risking to lose her mind. And finally, Hartley had a car, hard to smell, and he was probably already far away… She growled inwardly, but focused on her happiness and relief to clear her thoughts.

"Do you think you could… you know ?" Jackson asked lowly while he looked around them to make sure noone was listening. "Sniff around for a track ?"

Niamh shook her head in a defeated look and pouted.

"I could… But in human form, I wouldn't get any smell. And in wolf form, there is too many people around us, it's way too dangerous if I snap. And Shafer is around, he is already suspicious about me, he would immediately notice my absence. I don't know if he is smart enough or open-minded enough to link the Beast with me, but I'd rather not take the risk. And… track down a car on a road, it's almost impossible mission…"

"So it's over ?" Jamie complained, completely distraught.

"No… Only compromised", Niamh tempered, glaring at Shafer while he was talking with the policemen. "We're going to use him to find Hartley", she said as she gestured towards the agent of FBI with her chin.

The two others glanced at her with uncertainty, not sure if she was serious or not. Jamie in particular seemed to have a hard time following her train of thoughts.

"Are you serious ? Scam an agent of FBI ? You almost broke his nose already, I think you should behave if you don't want to get in trouble… You must be tired, we should go back to the hotel and rest", the journalist tried to ease the situation as she slowly got up from the footboard of the ambulance.

"I'm dead serious, Jamie. I don't like him… There's something off… I don't know… He keeps lying to us. Since the very beginning."

"What do you mean, he's lying ? I know you guessed right, at the hotel, when he talked about Hartley to get in, but now… Why do you hate him so much ?" Jackson wondered sincerely.

"I can hear his heart beating. Yours too. When he lies, his heartbeat increases sensibly, and since he hangs around us, each time we talk about something important, about our work or Reiden, his heart starts beating stronger and faster, even if these variations are rather insignificant as long as we don't confront him."

Jackson couldn't help but feel his gaze fly towards Shafer and stare at him longly carefully : he didn't want to cross eyes with the agent. Eventually, he sighed deeply, hands on his hips and staring at the ground between his feet, deep in thoughts.

"We're going back to the hotel, and we'll see then. I trust you, Niamh, but I don't want Shafer to suspect anything."

"And you would believe her just like that ?" Jamie protested a little louder, drawing Shafer's attention on them.

"I _saw_ her, Jamie. If she tells us she can hear a heart beating inside someone's chest with her bare ears, I believe her, yes. I don't like what she says, but it's not a reason to ignore her", the zoologist retorted.

"Ignore what ?" Shafer inquired when he stepped next to them.

Jamie, usually so quick to escape traps like these with her wit, opened her mouth but no sound came out of it. She couldn't get herself and the others out of this with a pirouette, which surprised and destabilized her enough for her to began stuttering.

"Ignore my instinct", Niamh intervened sourly.

She stepped right in front of Shafer, preparing to lie to him right in his face.

"This case is suspicious. I don't know how Hartley ended knowing the existence of the Mother Cell or how he knew where to find it… _Thats_ makes me uncomfortable. You want to help ? Fine. Find Hartley and make him confess what he knows."

She immediately turned her back to him, fearing that her passion and worry would partly trigger her transformation.

"Well…" Shafer said watching her, with arched brows and wide eyes. "What happened to you ? You finally understood that I'm with the good guys too ?" he taunted, his heart beating slightly faster and reinforcing the metamorph's conviction of his fishiness.

Niamh controlled her bloodrush, calmed down the tingles in her eyes that betrayed her agitation, and turned to face the agent of FBI with a grim look.

"Oh, don't make me say things I didn't say. I still don't trust you. I wouldn't for a million dollars. But it's your job, so I guess it's better to let the professionnals do it, even if I _hate_ it."

She walked away towards Shafer's car, a grim pout darkening her face to keep her act on. The agent must not be suspicious, and leaving like that was totally something she could do, regarding her character. She was rightfully upset by the conclusion she had come to, and so there was nothing suspicious with her brooding alone. Feeling forced to let him do as he wants, and having to admit it in front of him was more than enough to put her on a bad mood for a certain amount of time. And as it stuck to her usual behavior… he wouldn't see anything suspicious.

Jackson offered his arm and shoulder to Jamie to help her get up and walk to the car, while Shafer joined Niamh quickly. He looked for her eyes, to start a conversation about what just happened before the two others made it there, but the girl locked herself on the back seats before he could say anything. He threw his hands up in annoyance and opened the door of the driver's side . When Jackson and Jamie got in the car too, he started the engine and drove them back to their hotel. As the three recruits of Delavane were about to return to their room, Shafer motioned them to follow him to the hotel's restaurant, a few meters away from the lobby.

As they were heading towards the restaurant, Niamh stopped Jamie by holding her arm. She had an apologetic look on her face, and Jamie suddenly seemed concerned for her.

"Are you okay ? Is that because of what I said back at the car crash ?" she quiered.

"No… Look I'm sorry", Niamh replied softly.

"For what ?" Jamie was genuinely lost, at this point.

"I'm sorry for how I talked to you yesterday, before you went with Butler. I shouldn't have been mean to you. You didn't deserve it."

Usually, having to apologize was something that really upset Niamh. It was her inner alpha wolf that didn't deal well with it. She would do it, but she didn't like it, it felt almost wrong to her. And yet, there she was, asking for forgiveness from the _human_ she had wronged.

"I admit I was surprised by your outburst, but… I guess you were just… overly protective. You promised Chloé that you would protect Jackson and I, and you had to let me go to achieve our mission. I can understand that it upset you", Jamie slowly said, fixing her gaze into Niamh's.

"I just wanted to apologize. You didn't deserve my anger. It was supposed to be directed at Butler and Shafer, but you was just on the receiving end on the wrong moment… Once again, I'm sorry…"

"Hey, you know, it's okay. I forgive you", Jamie smiled as she patted the girl on the shoulder to comfort her. "We're fine, now, okay ?"

"Yeah. Let's join the boys, they'll wait for us otherwise."

They sat at the first table they saw, and started to debrief about the crash and Hartley stealing the Mother Cell. Jackson and Jamie were sitting face to face, and Niamh was in front of Shafer. They were all looking at the journalist with both understanding and worry. They all knew she had just faced something traumatising, but they also knew they needed info. And Jamie knew it all to well, and so she started to talk without being asked.

"All I remember were his eyes. I couldn't stop staring at them because they were so strange."

"Come on, Jamie. Something. Which direction he went in, what he was wearing, something", Jackson urged Jamie softly.

"I'm trying, okay ?" Jamie bit back almost angrily.

Jackson recoiled slightly and excused himself. He lifted himself up from the chair and went to purchase drinks at the counter. He came back only a few seconds later, before Shafer could ask more questions, with the photo of his father and Hartley, the one they found in Hartley's Bible. He set it flat on the table and glanced at Shafer.

"Hey, do you have a recent photo of Evan Lee ?"

"Just on the fugitive notification", the agent of FBI replied as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed them the photo he was talking about.

Niamh frowned as she was trying to figure out where Jackson was going. He put the two photos side by side and tapped on Hartley's eyes on the first photo, the one with his father. The metamorph understood immediately when she saw the normal pupils of the man, and when she compared them with those of the second photo. His pupil was different, just like those of the mad animals, it was dilated and seemed to dribble into the iris. She tightened her jaws and took a deep breath.

"Look at his eyes. They appear normal. And then here, his pupil is blown. Sometime after meeting my father, Evan Lee suffered the same mutation as those animals", Jackson stated, a slightly crazy gleam in his eyes.

"You're telling me this is the reason he attacked those hunters ?" Shafer asked, clearly doubtful.

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Trust me, there's no need for an actual reason to attack hunters", Niamh scoffed as she crossed her arms.

"Niamh, please", Jackson chided her with a glare.

"Oh come on !"

Jamie was quietly watching the photos until she suddenly remembered something and spoke it out, interrupting the starting argument.

"He was wearing a light-colored shirt. I remember because everything else was so dark…" she said softly.

"You didn't mention that before", Jackson remarked with a comforting smile as he immediately stopped his quarrel with the metamorph.

Jamie mouthed a 'no' as she gently shook her head. Niamh too seemed to have completely forgot about their dispute and smiled at the journalist. She nudged her shoulder with hers in a comforting attitude. Shafer eyed her behavior carefully, before turning to Jamie.

"You know, Jamie, there's a chance I can help you remember if, uh... if you're willing to try."

As they all shared curious glances with the agent of FBI about how he could help Jamie remember her accident, they decided to go to their room to not be disturbed. They left the restaurant after Jackson paid for their drinks and they brought them back with them. In the elevator, they discussed about what Shafer intended to do.

"I believe that we actually remember a lot more than we commonly think we can. I'm going to help you remember. Nothing painful or invasive. Just talk, trust me."

At these two last words, Niamh growled quietly and balled up her fists. Trust that man ? Never.

"I don't think hypnosis is real, agent Shafer... No offense", Jamie tentatively said.

"Oh, it's not hypnosis. We'll just talk and see what happens, okay ?"

"Okay..." Jamie accepted as the doors of the elevator opened and let them out of it.

They walked down the corridor to their room, leading Shafer to it. The agent of FBI and the reporter entered first, and before Niamh could follow them, Jackson stopped her by holding her arm.

"We'll join you in a minute", he explained to the agent as he closed the door and dragged Niamh in the emergency staircase.

"What's wrong ? I don't like leaving her alone with that devil..." Niamh protested.

"Don't worry, it won't take long. I wanted to talk to you about what we found about Hartley."

"His pupil ?"

"Hum... Yeah. I guess Abe told you about yours."

"Actually no, but I heard Chloé tell you about the bats they found in Rio. Sorry, I spied on your conversation with her when we still were at Butler's shelter."

Jackson looked at her with wide eyes and mouth agape, before closing it and look at her with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"Well, I didn't expect that. But well as you know then, you, the animals and Hartley have this common point."

"Yeah, but only when I turn into my wolf form. Otherwise, I think I would have been told if my pupil was dilated and dribbling", she drawled in a voice laced with sarcasm.

"Do you think Hartley could be the missing link between you and the animals ? I mean, no other human did have this defying pupil, as my father called it, maybe..."

"The missing link ? Man you sound like you try to find the yeti", Niamh sneered. "I don't know what Hartley is, but he certainly is not the 'missing link'."

"Come on, Niamh, think about it for a second ! The animals are sick and attack people. And they have this defying pupil. Hartley is a human, who attacked other humans, and he has this pupil too. And you. You are halfway between human and animal, you can turn into a wolf-bear hybrid and when you do so, you also have this defying pupil. Come and try to tell me now you don't think there's a connection between you two."

Niamh grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him from the ground from about ten centimeters, pushing him against the wall, her jaws tightened to the point they were hurting. Her eyes were slowly turning to gold and her strength was also increased from her sudden ire.

"Do not ever again compare me to this _human_ , Jackson", she hissed through her clenched teeth, which were beginning to grow in her mouth as she tried her best to control her inner wolf.

Jackson surprinsingly kept his calm, raising his hands peacefully while his drumming heart gave away his fear. He tentatively pointed at her eyes and gently whispered.

"Your eyes, Niamh. You should look in a mirror."

She growled lowly but got the message. She put him down and started breathing deeply to calm herself down. She needed to appease her wrath. Slowly, her anger ebbed away, and she realised how childish she was. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed loudly.

"Sorry, Jackson... I'd like to blame it on my Berserker blood, but I think I'm just too quick to get angry. Did I hurt you ?"

"No. You just scared me a little", he lied. Her nails had scratched his skin to blood, even if so little of it had spilled, and she did scare him as hell.

She nodded distractedly and breathed deeply another couple of times. She saw the scene unfold again under her closed eyelids, and cursed herself and her pride. How could she have attacked him for such a petty reason ? Additionnal, his hypothesis was not unreasonnable. Maybe there was indeed a link, something in common between her and Hartley. After all, they were both of human shape and organism, though Niamh's was faster and stronger, and they could be reacting to the same sickness. Maybe he was exposed to the Mother Cell of Reiden, but in his case, something fucked up and he ended up becoming a murderer. Maybe this was also what was awaiting her. Maybe she will ultimately go mad and attack people even when human...

"We should keep this hypothesis in mind. I think... you may have a point. I hate it, but as we have no real lead yet on what happened to him or me... we should follow this one."

Jackson cracked a sad smile and gestured her to go back to their room.

"Shafer and Jamie will start wondering what takes us so long. We should join them."

"Agreed."

When Jackson opened the door, though, Niamh's phone rang. She shot a quick glance at it and froze. Richard. She was hesitating. Answer or deny ? With a trembling hand, she refused the call and shoved the phone deep in her pocket before entering the room behind Jackson. Shafer and Jamie were sitting face to face, and were talking about this and that, and when the last two entered, they stopped.

"Have you finally decided to join us ?" Shafer drawled.

Niamh was about to bite out a sarcastic retort, but Jackson beat her to it.

"Yes. Sorry, we had personnal matters to discuss. We won't disturb you."

Jackson played it diplomatic, perfectly knowing that being difficult to the agent of FBI would only make things more complex and wouldn't help Jamie recall the accident. Niamh zipped her mouth obediently and swore to not open it anymore until the whole thing was over.

"Great. So Jamie, now I want you to relax. And 've been in an accident", he continued as Jamie did so and nodded. "But you're okay. Now, what do you see ?"

Hesitantly and with a little voice, Jamie started to speak.

"I was hanging, because we were upside-down. And, um… and the steering wheel was kind of bent towards me", she said while she made gestures with her hands to explain more clearly.

Sitting in the background, Jackson and Niamh were quietly listening to her and Shafer, silently wondering how Shafer would extract the truth from Jamie simply by talking to her.

"Then you hit your head on the passenger window. That, um... That must have hurt."

"Yeah. And my chest. Uh, uh, from the seat belt. I-It hurt to breathe", Jamie continued, still immerged in her memories.

Niamh froze again when her phone rang in her pocket. Without a second look at it, she rushed out of the room to not compromise Jamie's recollection of the car crash. She closed the door and answered the call.

"Niamh ? I've been trying to call you for days ! Didn't you see my calls ? Pick up the bloody phone when I call you ! I was worried sick for you !"

Niamh slightly recoiled from her phone when Richard started to yell at her. She felt like a child being scolded by her mother.

"Actually I never noticed any call before today. I thought that you didn't want to hear about me again..."

Despite her usual contempt for humans, she really cared for her friend and didn't want him to forsake her.

"Are you kidding ? I'd never forget you, Niamh. We're friends, remember ? I don't care if you're some sort of... I don't even know what you are. But I don't care. You saved my life back then, with these dogs."

"Yeah, about that... Try to not approach any animal in the next months. See, I was recruited because of this... particularity of mine... because animals are behaving weirdly. They attack people, like the dogs the other day. I don't want you to get hurt, so please, follow my advice and protect yourself."

There was a small silence between the two.

"I've heard that there were attacks... Guess it wasn't just a coïncidence..."

"No. I'm in America, with a team of scientists, trying to figure out what is happening exactly. It's not easy. But we found some evidence and we're tracking down a man who could help us understand what is happening."

"America ?! And... I thought you didn't like people ? Like, you barely put up with me at first, and sometimes I still feel like you just want to silence me forever", he joked with a refreshing laugh.

She laughed back, feeling a genuine smile cracking on her lips. And then the smile turned bitter as she remembered why she was with the team to begin with.

"A man came to me after you passed that day. He blackmails me into this. Well, he _did_ to convince me to join, but now I genuinely want to solve this crisis."

"He did _what_ ? But it's illegal ! Why didn't you turn him in to the police ?" the young man protested, seeming rightfully offended.

"Richard. I'm a werewolf, remember ? If I had turned him in, like you say, he would have revealed my secret. I couldn't afford that. You have to know that I'm not alone. I'm not the only metamorph on Earth. I couldn't reveal the secret of an entire species."

She heard him sigh loudly, and very clearly imagined him wiping his face.

"I guess I understand. But if there's anything I can do to help you, just tell me. And I promise I'll steer clear from any animals until you tell me it's safe."

At this moment, Shafer exited the room and glanced at her with curiosity. She covered her phone for a second.

"What do you want ? Did it work ?" she growled.

"As a matter of fact, it did. We have a plate, or at least, the beginning : KLL. Who are you talking to ?"

"That doesn't concern you, Shafer", she bit back as she re-entered the hotel room.

She heard him sigh and leave, but she didn't care. Once inside, she found Jackson smiling to Jamie, seemingly happy that she managed to remember. Niamh smiled apologetically to the reporter, and resumed to her phone call.

"Sorry Richard, I had to deal with a nosy agent of FBI."

"FBI ? Bloody hell, Niamh, what have you done ?" he panicked.

"Nothing, he's just suspicious of me and he keeps sticking his nose into our mission. He's just a pain in the ass..." she tried to dedramatize the situation. He's supposed to help us find the man we are looking for. I hope he will actually be useful and not just that annoying devil he usually is. Well anyway, look Richard, I have to go back to work. Please, stay safe okay ?"

"Will do. Try to follow your own advice, would you ?" he responded, half serious, half joking.

She smiled and breathed out a little laugh.

"You perfectly know I won't. It was nice to talk to you, I'll try to call you more often. Bye", she concluded as she hung up the phone. "Sorry, I had to answer, I didn't want to disturb you and risk a failure of Shafer's attempt to bring back your memories..."

Jamie pushed her apologies aside with a wave of her hand and a comprehensive smile.

"Who was it ? Was it the Richard you talked about the other day ?" she quiered with a sly smile.

"Yes. I thought he would never want to hear of me again, after what happened... But it seems that he is okay with me being a big hybrid wolf-bear metamorph", Niamh replied swiftly. "So, Shafer told me you remembered the letters of Evan Lee's plate. Well done !"

"Do not even imagine you will get away from that talk so easily", Jamie gently scolded her. "What does he look like ? How long have you been knowing each other ? Do you like him ?"

Niamh opened wide eyes at the avalanche of indiscreet questions and took a step back as she raised her hands in defense.

"Wow, easy there, Jamie. He's just a friend. I like him, yes. Like a friend", Niamh precised.

"Oh, poor guy... That sucks..." Jamie's enthusiasm deflated.

"Jamie. Stop that", Niamh sighed with an annoyed look on her face. "Let's talk about what you remembered, would you ?"

"Fine, Evan Lee was driving a green truck with a plate reading KLL. Now, back to this Richard", Jamie insisted with a devilish smile.

Niamh cast a distressful glance at Jackson, pleading for help that never came. The zoologist sent her an apologetic gaze and lifted himself from his chair. He then walked outside of the room.

"Sorry, Niamh, this is way too awkward for me."

"Is this your revenge for earlier ?" she complained half-heartedly.

He smiled a wolfish smile.

"You did scare me as hell, you know ?" he simply answered as he left the room.

Niamh sighed deeply and turned towards Jamie, preparing herself to face countless questions about her friend. She didn't think the reporter would recover so quickly from the car crash and Butler's death, but there she was, burying her under endless questions. She prepared herself for a long afternoon...

XXXXXXXXXX

Still recovering from the intense questionning she had been victim of, Niamh laid on her back on her bed. She wouldn't have thought the reporter to be so nosy about her private life. Maybe it was a woman thing. Or a journalist thing. She sighed deeply, feeling completely depleted. Next to her, Jackson was trying to contact Chloé since he had come back, half an hour earlier. He was getting worrier each passing second. They had not have news from the Rio group since the last call, when Chloé had to hang up brutally. Jackson kept hearing her voicemail, and Niamh too, since her hearing was increased from her inactivity.

" _Bonjour, vous êtes sur la messagerie de Chloé, laissez-moi un message_ ", it said before Jackson hung up.

He sighed worrily and glanced at the still unmoving Niamh.

"Don't worry too much. She is a big girl, she can handle herself. They must be too focused to contact us right now, that's all", she reassured him as she felt the weight of his gaze on her.

Jamie suddenly entered the room with a hopeful look on her face.

"Hey. Where you been ?" Jackson asked, hoping to distract himself from his worry.

"Finding Evan Lee. Or at least trying", the journalist replied.

"The FBI can't, but you can", he doubtfully said.

"That woudn't surprise me... She found Butler, after all", Niamh intervened, causing a tense silence. "Sorry, you liked him, I forgot about that..."

Jamie avoided her eyes and started to talk again, trying her best to ignore the twinge in her heart.

"Well... You know how many law enforcement officers there are in this country ? About a million. You know how many dog lovers there are ?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about", Jackson hesitantly said, looking genuinely lost.

"I do. It reminds me of a series. And if it is what I think it is, it's pure genius", Niamh remarked with a carnivorous smile.

Jamie cast an approving and victorious look at her before continuing.

"Eighty-five million. Look, I posted this to every social media site and local app I could find : 'Looking for the man who killed my golden retriever and drove off in a green pickup. Louisiana plates start with KLL. Last seen : Mobile, Alabama'."

As she was reading her message, comprehension dawned on Jackson's face, who also seemed to think it was genius.

"I'm not waiting for the FBI to find Evan Lee Hartley's truck. That son of a bitch nearly killed me", Jamie bit out with spite.

"You are one clever cookie. Was that something like that in your series ?" Jackson complimented the reporter, before turning to the young metamorph, who had sat up on the bed when Jamie had started to talk.

"Almost. Instead of a dog, it was a cycling club and bikes voluntarily destroyed by a car. Worked too", she shrugged. "I personnaly prefer dogs to bikes."

There was a small silence to allow them all to concentrate again. It was Jamie who spoke first afterwards.

"You find anything in Leo's ledger ?"

"Yeah, the dates and locations where Reiden's Mother Cell product were used are consistent with pretty much all the infected animals we've seen. Louisiana, L.A., Slovenia, U.K. … Brazil", he replied obediently as he showed the occurrences on the notebook and handed it to Jamie.

"What if there's nothing we can do about it ?" she worried as she rapidly read the ledger.

"If there's nothing that we can do about it, then, uh... there's nothing that anyone can do about it... and my father was right, and the whole world goes to hell."

Niamh may be thinking that it was a bit pretentious, he was still right. Noone else had yet noticed the anomaly with the animals. They were just thinking there were random attacks every here and there, anf though it was abnormal, it wasn't abnormal enough to trigger government reactions. Or at least, not officially... She sighed loudly with determination, rose from the bed and walked to the table wher Jackson and Jamie were sitting. She set her hands on it aggressively and fixer her eyes in those of the two others alternatively.

"We're going to find a solution, a cure, or whatever it might be. If Hartley is affected by the mutation, as his pupil seems to tell, it means it may affect the rest of the humans too. Plus, the animal kingdom is absolutely essential to life on Earth. We _have_ to cure them from this madness. And finally, I'd like to add that metamorphs going mad is the last thing you fragile humans would want. You may have technologic superiority over wolves and bears, but metamorphs _are_ intelligent. They won't act like every other mad animal. They will plan their attacks and kill thousands of people. And I know it's selfich, but I wish I could transform without snapping and try to kill Abraham and Mitch again... Well, I think it's not that selfish, actually..."

Another contemplative silence stretched between Jackson and Niamh, as they both considered the hypothesis of packs of wild metamorphs attacking human cities around the entire world. Not a really appealing sight... Jamie, though, seemed to still not believe this story about metamorphs. However, Jackson believed it, and she trusted him, so she kept her doubts for herself.

"Don't worry, we'll find know it's the Mother Cell that triggered these reactions. Maybe we could use it to cure the animals. You know, like we do with venom, to make anti-venom", Jackson suggested.

"That... is not a stupid idea. It might even actually work, but we need to find Hartley first. He has the Mother Cell after all..." Niamh tempered.

Jamie's phone chimed and she took a look at it. Her face enlightened as she turned to the others with a wide smile.

"Oh, my God."

"Hmm ?" Jackson said.

"Someone spotted Evan Lee."

Jackson raised his head with both hope and disbelief. They quickly gathered their stuff and decided to join Shafer in the lobby. Once down there, they quickly noticed the man wandering about.

"Hey ! Hey. Why didn't you return my text ?" Jamie accused him.

Shafer turned to them, and set his hands on his hips in a rather dominant stance.

"Oh, sorry, there's nothing to report yet. We haven't found Evan Lee", he excused himself with an apologetic look on his face, one that Niamh didn't trust for a second.

"We did", Jamie announced triumphantly as she glanced at Jackson and Niamh rapidly. "He's been spotted at the shopping center. We should go now."

"Of course", Shafer approved as he immediately rushed to his car, the three recruits of Delavane in tow. "But how did you find him ?"

"An obscure method about dog lovers and her deceased golden retriever", Jackson joked as he shared an amused wink with Niamh.

Shafer seemed quite baffled and incredulous, but didn't say anything : he was too busy driving. It only took fifteen minutes to get to the shopping plaza. They got off the agent's car and started looking around to find Hartley's pickup. Jamie almost immediately spotted it and pointed at it.

"That's it. That's his truck."

"All right, I want the three of you to go back to the hotel", Shafer ordered as he threw his keys to Jackson and drew his gun out of his holster to inspect the pickup.

Jackson and Niamh scoffed in unison.

"No, the answer's no", he spoke out, determined.

"Stay back. All of you", Shafer repeated as he trotted to the pickup.

"Take care, I'll check the pickup too. You know, give it a sniff", she jested. " Try not to get yourself in trouble before I come back, okay ?"

She followed Shafer while keeping an ear for the two others. They were pondering about where Evan Lee Hartley may have gone. She got to the pickup when Shafer forcefully opened it and could smell the inside almost discreetly. When the door opened, she was showered in Hartley's smell and had to take a step back. She had breathed in deeply when she had seen Shafer forcing the lock, and she was overwhelmed by the odour of their target. He didn't smell bad, he just... Something was wrong about him. Like if he was sick, his scent was both very sweet and queasy. She felt her stomach flip and immediately stepped back from the truck.

"I told you to keep your distance", Shafer scolded her as he searched the car.

"And Jackson spoke for all of us, we won't. So accept it now, it will be easier for after", Niamh retorted while she inspected the inside of the pickup from a safe distance.

"Don't get in my way..." Shafer sighed wearily.

She took a deep breath again, fighting her disgust to find the smell of Hartley in the vicinity, not noticing that Shafer was looking at her from the corner of his eye. He furrowed his brows, intrigued by her odd behavior, but kept his thoughts to himself, although adamant on confronting her later. She identified almost immediately the path Hartley took, and where he should be now. There was an optometrist cabinet further, and his smell lead straight to it. She walked to the others, who were also heading to the office. They must have come to the same conclusion as her.

"What would he be doing there ?" she asked as she reach to them.

"We know his eye changed. We also know that he worked for my father, who cut out the eyes of infected animals", Jackson explained.

"Wait, you don't think he's gonna cut his eyes out, do you ?" Jamie frantically said, looking really concerned.

"That would be a solution", Niamh shrugged. "What ? Don't give me that look, it wouldn't be a big loss. Anyway, if he thinks he can cure himself with an optometrist, I want to know why and how. Maybe it could work for me too ?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure gonna find out", Jackson determinedly muttered, looking at the window.

Suddenly, they heard cries of pain from the optometrist cabinet. Jackson took the lead and opened the door, Niamh only a step behind, and Jamie following more timidly. They entered the office and found Evan Lee Hartley screaming in pain, clutching his hands on his left eye, obviously injured considering the blood that was spilling fron under his fingers. Next to him, the optometrist was utterly panicking, repeating that Hartley had forced him to do it. What was _it_ , though, was another question...

"He made me do it. He made me do it !" the man repeated frantically.

"FBI. Back up", Shafer ordered.

Niamh just noticed him, while he must have followed them, but she didn't took care of his presence before, focused on Hartley and his smell. He smelt like a human. A sick human, infected with something unknown to her, but still a human. Not a metamorph. In a way, it reassured her because it would have been hard for her to deal with another metamorph in front of the others, and because she didn't like to fight her peers. And on the other hand, it was worrisome, because it meant that the mutation could affect the human race. And if it could, then noone would be safe...

Jackson rushed to Evan Lee's side and grabbed him, forcing him to look at him in the eyes. He shook the agonizing man carelessly.

"My name is Jackson Oz", he said very quickly, knowing he had little time to talk. "Listen to me. You knew my father."

"Get away from me", Hartley groaned painfully, half unconscious.

"Why'd you think this would cure you ?" Jackson growled lowly with a crazed gleam in the eyes.

Niamh noticed the serynge and the liquid Mother Cell in it, she cringed and snarled at the criminal.

"Yeah, that's stupid. Maybe using this is the solution, but not like that. You can't cure your poison infection by injecting yourself more of the poison. Congrats, man, you win a Darwin Award !" she sneered in a voice laced with sarcasm.

Jackson glared at her. They didn't have time to make fun of the criminal. He was obviously dying from the injection, and he still had questions to answer.

"Why'd you think would cure you ? Why'd you think would cure you ?!" the zoologist repeated with a glint of madness in his desperate voice.

Jamie then saw what was left of the Mother Cell, a yellow solid crystal that almost looked like amber, and secured it quickly. It was what they were looking for at the beginning, and they would get it. Next to them, Jackson was completely loosing his mind, shouting at Hartley while the latter was dying from the injection of the liquid Mother Cell.

"Did my father think it would cure the animals ?"

"Your father... did this to me..." Evan Lee managed to utter before letting out his last breath.

His heart stopped at the same moment, Niamh could hear it, or rather, the absence of beating in his chest. It wasn't her first corpse, but it was the first since her mother she actually _saw_ die. She wasn't on the battlefield with the Berserkers when her former pack attacked them. She stepped back and looked away, feeling uneasy at the idea to look straight at the dead man. His left eye was red from the blood that spilled, and his pupil was still dilated. It didn't even cure him... Shafer rushed to the dead man and checked his pulse.

"He's gone", he said, like the others had not understood yet.

Jamie didn't look at the dead man either, and got closer to Jackson.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Jackson. But... But we got it. This could be the answer", she whispered tentatively while Jackson just stared at Hartley with blank eyes.

"I got to call this into the field office", Shafer intervened, seemingly as dumbfounded and panicked as the three others and the optometrist. "Go. Go ! I got this, go ! he insisted, ushering them to the outside.

Niamh heard his heart beating like a drum, but it didn't mean anything. A man just died, Shafer could simply be panicking over this event, and not be trying to trick them again. It was perfectly reasonnable. In addition, they found the Mother Cell, which means new leads to save the animal kingdom. He had every reason to be frantic, so she decided not to protest when he pushed them to the exit.

Still shaken by what they just witnessed, the three of them got back in Shafer's car and drove back to their hotel, the Mother Cell carefully stowed in Jamie's pocket.


	10. Chapter 10 : First kill

**AN : First of all, thanks to the people who followed this story. Every time I receive a notification it makes me really happy :) Then, I'm sorry for not updating in a long time, but I know I won't update regularly and it is useless to try to convince myself that I will. And finally, here's the tenth chapter, hope you enjoy it :) It's my first attempt at really writing a fighting scene in English so don't hesitate to tell me what I must improve.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 10**

They went back to their room, all of them feeling downhearted after Evan Lee's death. At least, they had the Mother Cell... Jackson announced that he would stay at the lobby to try to contact Chloé again, and left the room. Jamie and Niamh stayed, and the reporter decided to take a shower after what they had witnessed. She said she felt dirty, although there was no blood of gore scene, seeing this dead man just shook her to the core. Niamh was laying on the bed, reading silently and occasionally answering Jamie's questions, when she heard footsteps in the corridor. By rote, she listened to the rythm of the person's pace and felt a sudden burst of annoyance and slight anger when she recognized it. She sighed loudly and set her book on the bed, raising her voice.

"Jamie, we have a visitor", she said.

"Who ?" the reporter quiered, stopping the water and leaving the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her.

Shafer knocked on the door, drawing Jamie's attention to it.

"Our favourite agent of FBI", Niamh drawled sourly as an answer before looking back down to her book.

Jamie went to open the door, which surprised the young metamorph, who stopped reading again to look at the reporter with disbelief.

"Seriously ? In a towel ?" she complained.

"What ? He's quite handsome, don't you think ?"

Niamh made a digusted noise as her face twisted in repulsion. He whole being couldn't even bear the idea of liking Shafer in _that_ way. The door opened, and she returned to her book, trying her best not to listen to the conversation the two others will have.

"Um... Hey", Shafer laughed as Jamie opened the door and he found out how she was 'clothed'. "Uh, wh-where are Jackson and Niamh ?"

"He's down the coffee shop, and I'm here", Niamh spoke out from her bed, still trying to focus on her reading. "What do you want ?"

"Oh, what ? You're not celebrating ?" Shafer said, he sounded surprised.

From her bed, Niamh could _hear_ Jamie raising her eyebrows in incomprehension. They lost the Mother Cell and Leo Butler, Evan Lee Hartley was somewhere out there with the Mother Cell, and Shafer was constantly watching them. The girl sighed in annoyance while she resumed to her book. Where was the last line she read... There. It was her favourite series of books, the first she read when she was old enough to read alone. She could still remember how it had been difficult to begin the book, how she had stopped after only ten pages, before coming back to it a year later, and finishing it in three weeks. She was eleven, and she had read _Harry Potter_ for the first time. Since then, she had read the entire series more than she could remember, but she still loved reading it. She could always recall old memories from her childhood, when her mother used to cuddle her to sleep. A slight smile cracked on her lips at the remembrance.

"Uh, well, there are mitigating factors", Jamie retorted.

"Now, come on. You have the evidence to take down Reiden, right ?" Shafer said, raising his hands in objection, looking like Evan Lee's death wasn't that much of a failure.

"I... It seems like it", Jamie agreed slowly, letting herself being convinced by the agent.

"So unless I'm missing something, it seems like your bad day turned out great. So ask _me_ , you should be doing something about that."

"We would, if you hadn't come up !" Niamh said loudly from her bed, unable to focus enough on her book to read it.

"Niamh !" Jamie scolded her.

"No, it doesn't matter", Shafer reassured her, waving Niamh's agressivity aside with a movement of his hand. "She doesn't like me, it's okay. But you _should_ do something else than staying in a towel here with this grumpy teen-intern of yours, although you're an excellent towel-wearer. Among your other very fine qualities", he added with a charming voice.

Niamh frowned in surprise and incomprehension. Was he flirting with Jamie ?

"Really ? What would those be ?" Jamie replied with the same tone.

"Well, if I'm gonna list those, I should probably come in, 'cause it could take a while", Shafer continued.

"Ew, I'm definitely out. I think I'm going to be sick... Urg... Jackson will need to know he shouldn't come back before a moment..."

Niamh got up from her bed and set her book down on it. She pushed past the two others, and especially Shafer, and made it to the door. She sort of turned out her sense of hearing, limiting it to what was immediately around her, and exited the hotel room, closing the door behind her. Sighing in annoyance, she walked through the corridor, until she reached the elevator, and got inside. She pressed the lobby button and waited until the elevator reached the first floor. The doors opened in a soft 'ding' and she got out of it with another heavy and aggravated sigh as she made a face at the thought of what the two could be doing upstairs. She was heading towards the lobby when she almost hit Jackson on his way back to their room.

"You shouldn't be going up there, Jamie and Shafer are pretty busy", she said with an obviously upset tone.

But he didn't care, he shoved her aside as he passed, gesturing for her to follow him with a look of worry. He was on the phone, or at the very least, _trying_ to make a call.

"What's going on ?" she quiered, now anxious too, her heart rate increasing slightly.

"Shafer. He killed the optometrist. We... Jamie, listen to me", he said frantically when she picked up the phone, as he looked at the light indicating the floor the elevator was at. "Ben killed the optometrist. Okay ? He didn't call it into the field office, he killed him."

There was a brief pause on the other side of the phone, and Niamh could almost hear Jamie's distress in her shaking breath.

"Uh, I-I'm with Ben right now, actually. Niamh just left, and... Maybe, uh... Maybe we could all meet up later for dinner or..."

"You're a terrible liar", Shafer's voice was heard, cutting her off, and he hung the phone.

Niamh couldn't suppress a low growl when Jackson pushed his phone down his pocket anxiously, scaring off an old lady who happened to pass by. Her hands were shaking with fear and contained anger, as they were waiting for this damned elevator. She started pacing, thinking about the idea of using the stairs instead of waiting there, but she knew it would be too long to climb fifteen floors, and she would be exhausted after that. Even metamorphs could be tired from exercise, and running up all these stairs would, and she didn't want to be diminished when she would have to fight Shafer.

Eventually, the elevator arrived and opened and they jumped in. Luckily for them, noone tried to get in with them so they weren't slowed. Jackson hammered the fifteenth floor button brutally, and mashed the button to close the doors. The ascension was agonisingly slow, and Jackson started to be scared of Niamh and her eyes, growing golder by each second passing. She was so tense that the joints of her balled up fists were white and he could almost hear her heart beating hard against her chest. He tentatively put a hand on her shoulder, causing her to immediately look at him, fear in her eyes.

"Hey, calm down, okay ? We're gonna save her and stop that bastard", he reassured her, squeezing her shoulder in comfort. "You need to learn to deal with pressure. It's not the first stressing situation we've faced, and it will certainly not be the last. Keep it together and be brave."

She nodded distractedly, face pale and still anxious, but breathing deeply as if to force her heartrate to slow down. She bit her lip and looked down, suddenly aware that she had been acting foolishly. When she raised her gaze to meet Jackson's, she seemed a bit more composed.

"You're right. It's gonna be hard to control it, but I'll try. You're right", she repeated. "We will face way worse than a corrupted agent and I _need_ to learn to keep my anger in check."

"Good", Jackson said with a friendly smile.

They were a few floors from fifteenth, and were ready to bolt out of the elevator as soon as it would open. Niamh took a deep breath, closed her eyes and largely opened her ears. Immediately, she was overwhelmed by dozens of loud sounds and noises, but she held strong. She filtered everything until she heard the particular sound one would make when struggling against a gag. The probability of it to come from someone else than Jamie was too low, and so she knew the journalist was already restrained. When the doors opened with the familiar 'ding', she trailed her eyes on the man exiting their room. She emitted a loud and especially menacing growl that made Shafer look at them. His eyes widened and he took off.

"You son of a bitch !" Jackson and Niamh hissed as they both darted out the elevator.

"Go check on Jamie, I'll catch him !", Niamh ordered, her alpha blood rushing through her veins, struggling against herself not to let loose of all control and chase the human down like she would a prey.

"Just don't kill him", the zoologist said calmly to her, knowing she could hear him even from the distance.

Eyes trailed on Shafer's back, Niamh heard Jackson's words, but couldn't afford to slow down to answer him. The agent of FBI had the Mother Cell in his hand and was running away, she _had_ to catch him, no matter the cost.

"No promises..." she mumbled, already inaudible by Jackson, as she prepared herself to potentially have to kill a human.

Shafer turned left at the end of the corridor and broke through the emergency staircase door. The girl followed him immediately, only to have to dodge narrowly the bullet Shafer shot at her. The projectile dug a hole in the wall beside her head, and suddenly adrenaline bursted again, flowing through her body like fire. It elicited another loud growl of pure anger from her, but she managed to keep control over the dangerous furry part of herself.

"If I were you, Shafer, I'd drop the Mother Cell now before I accidentally kill you", she rasped out, struggling to speak despite her fangs pushing against her gums.

"I could say the same about you", Shafer retorted with both dry amusement and seriousness. "Or are you finally going to tell me what your secret is ? Why Oz and Campbell protect you ?"

By the way the sound reverberated, she guessed he was three stairs underneath. He was not that far, this staircase was rather narrow... She gathered all the control she could muster and began to run down the stairs, keeping the Beast hidden in her heart. Shafer fired again, and this time, he hit her. She let out a pained cry and backed to the wall to avoid any more shots, her shoulder screaming in agony. Breathing loudly and quickly, she tried her best not to let her seething wolf take control of her despite the adrenaline flowing in her.

 _Pain ! Bad ! Evil ! Kill !_ she could hear her inner voice murderously scream.

"Sorry, I don't have time to talk. You see, I have to deliver this thing and I can't..." Shafer bragged from the floor under, before being interrupted by the young metamorph.

She jumped from her floor and landed on him before he could aim and shoot, and punched at him, narrowingly missing his head and only forcing him to drop his gun and the Mother Cell. They both toppled to the ground and rolled down a few more stairs, until they hit a wall. Shafer had a slight advantage against Niamh, who looked completely stunned by their fall, and also because she was first to hit the wall. She blinked, her eyes flicking from gold to blue and the other way around as she was trying to focus on the matter at hand. Shafer was slowly getting up, his legs wobbling as he stood. He was human, he was weaker than her, but still, she had yet to recover from the shock. Her gunshot wound was throbbing and she was bleeding profusely, but didn't care.

She shook her head as if to get rid of her dizziness, to no avail. She tried to rise on her feet, only to be smashed to the ground by a powerful punch from Shafer. She landed face first and let out a groan, but propped herself with her arms only immediately. The agent of FBI was clearly scared, even so slightly, and didn't wish to leave her the slightest chance to get up and counter attack. He rolled her on her back again with a kick in the ribs and threw himself at her throat, squeezing his hands around her neck. Winded by the blow and still stunned, Niamh was struggling to understand what was happening to her, but the pain helped her to focus. Her eyes became lucid in an instant, her mind instantly cleared as well, and she began to wrestle against him, her superior strength only so slightly helping her since she was pinned to the ground, couldn't breathe and her injured shoulder irradiated suffering.

She brutally scratched him, her nails digging deep in his flesh and making him wince in pain. She growled lowly, her eyes shining brighter with molten gold and her teeth bared at him.

"Get off her, you son of a bitch !" a voice shouted from above.

Shafer darted his eyes at Jamie and realized he could shoot her if only he could get to his weapon. Jamie realized it too and they both bolted towards the gun. The reporter got her hands on it first, aimed at the agent and fired. She kept pulling the trigger until there was no more bullets in it, and then continued for a few seconds. Jackson was behind her. He was staring at the dead man and further, at Niamh, who was shaking on the ground. He then ran to the girl and checked her pulse. Fast, but strong. He let out a relieved sigh and looked up at Jamie.

"Oh my God... Oh my God..." she uttered, completely shaken to the core, and pale as death.

"It's gonna be okay. Okay, um... Jamie, keep the gun. We'll dump it later, after erasing your fingerprints and DNA from it. Niamh ? Niamh, can you hear me ?" he asked softly to the prone metamorph.

She groaned, her mind raging with fear and relief, and anger and joy, and death drive and... She snarled, her back arching painfully as blood dripped from her shoulder. Her organism was still fueled by adrenaline and though she fought to contain it, it was becoming harder and harder every passing second. She blinked. Once, twice... A face was near hers and startled her. She jumped back as she snapped her jaws at Jackson and bared her teeth, surprising Jamie, who let out a scared squeak. Jackson reacted quickly enough to avoid being bitten, but barely, and he crawled back to put some distance between him and Niamh. She was breathing heavily, obviously trying to keep control over herself, but he could see in her eyes it wasn't easy.

And then she was gone. No more lucid gleam in her golden eyes, only the dark hostility they found in the other animals. She growled louder as she grew bigger in seconds, doubling her size and growing dark fur. Behind him, Jamie gasped when she witnessed the transformation for the first time. A second before, there was a wounded girl in the staircase, and now it was a mad with pain killing machine. They were so screwed... he thought. The Beast raised its gaze at him, its pupils still normal.

Jackson saw there a window for negotiation. He reminded himself of what Abe had told him about how he had calmed the metamorph in the woods, and decided that it was their only chance.

"Niamh ? Niamh, it's me, Jackson", he said softly, in a sweet and comforting voice, as if he was talking to a child... or to a wild and scared dog. "You know me. I'm your friend, remember ?"

He wasn't sure if he should approach her and risk being killed, but he sensed that he needed to be closer to break through her madness. He swallowed hard and neared the stiff and menacing hybrid Berserker-werewolf. She growled, her white fangs contrasting on her fur when she bared them to warn him. Even though he was utterly terrorized, he took another step towards her, but stopped right after that.

"Niamh, it's over", Jackson whispered to her, making eye contact to ease her stress.

She growled. As an alpha, she didn't like being stared at, it felt like a challenge. But the human part of her could see he cared about her and that he was worried. Her growl decreased, but she remained stiff and ready to fight.

"Shafer's dead, there's no danger anymore. You can turn back to human", he said warmly with a nice smile.

She was breathing loudly, heavily, as if she was struggling against herself once again. She blinked several times, every time looking more lucid than before. Her breathing became steadier, calmer, and she began to look around her and not only Jackson anymore. She saw Shafer's body on the ground, five bullet holes in his chest, and she saw Jamie, staring at her in utter shock, the gun still in her hand. She let out a snarl that sounded something like a contemptuous laughter at Shafer's dead corpse and sucked in a deep breath. She rose up on her hind legs, frightening Jackson who crawled back in panic, and began to reverse back to human form.

She then collapsed to the floor, breathing quickly, pale from the blood loss and the stress, and pressed a hand to her wound with a wince. She hissed when she touched the edges of the hole and tightly shut her eyes close. Then she opened them again and glanced at Jackson, still half lying on the stairs. A smile etched on her lips as she regained total lucidity from after her transformation.

"Hey, I didn't kill him, see ?" she joked weakly, her voice croaky.

Jamie cast her a shocked and pained glance and suddenly Niamh understood she was the one who had killed the corrupted agent. Her smile vanished immediately and she let sympathy color her face.

"I'm sorry, Jamie... I didn't want you to do that..." she said soflty, still livid from the blood loss and pain.

"It's not your fault, Niamh..." the reporter whispered, her voice flat and emotionless. "He was going to kill you. I... I had to do something. It was him or you. I choose you."

Niamh had a sad smile and closed her eyes, the bullet still buried deep in her flesh and preventing her enhanced healing to work properly. She heard footsteps nearing her and then, a hand replaced her own to apply pressure on the wound.

"It's gonna be alright. Don't worry, we'll take you to a hospital and..."

"No hospital. I'm not human, remember ? And what would you tell them ? How I was shot..."

"She's right, Jackson. We'll find a vet to stitch her wound and extract the bullet."

Surprisingly, even though she just killed a man and witness her friend and colleague turn into a giant hybrid wolf-bear, she was holding up just fine. She slipped the empty gun in her waistband and joined Jackson next to Niamh. The metamorph blinked multiple times and breathed deeply to gather her courage. She then strained her muscles to get up and leaned against the wall to help herself stand straight. There was now a small pool of blood under Shafer's body, and hers was starting to mix with it as it flowed from her shoulder.

"What about him ?" Jamie asked, showing Shafer with a movement of her chin.

"Screw that bastard. He's dead", Niamh snarled, teeth bared. "Someone will find him, eventually, and we don't have time to clean this mess. Let's gather our stuff and get the hell out of here with the Mother Cell..."

Jackson nodded slowly and helped Niamh to walk past the agent's body. She painfully climbed the stairs, her throbbing shoulder a reminder of how close to death she had been. If Shafer had been a bit more lucky, he could have put that bullet in her head, and even a metamorph couldn't survive that in human form.

"So you... you really are... a werewolf ?" Jamie said in an undertone once they got in their room.

"Well, I told you, right ?" Niamh replied with a smirk as Jackson sat her on her bed.

He went to the bathroom and came back a few minutes later with gauze and disinfectant. She stripped of her top, keeping only her bra, to let him apply the antiseptic and patch the wound. She hissed when he sprayed the liquid on her injury but remained determined. As soon as he was done, she put on her t-shirt again and got up from the bed.

"It's something to tell me what you are, and another to _see_ it..." Jamie defended herself, still staring at the blood on Niamh's clothes.

"Don't get used to it too quickly, it's dangerous. You saw it, I almost lost my mind back there. I could have killed Jackson... This thing, this Mother Cell... it infected me as well as the animals. When I turn, there's... that _thing_ in my mind that keeps pushing me to attack and kill. For now, I've never succumbed it, but I don't want to push my luck."

"Okay, let's pack up", Jackson intervened. "We don't know when someone will want to take the stairs instead of the elevator, but it could be soon, so we need to go."

"Right", Jamie agreed, before turning to her suitcase and beginning to stuff it with her belongings.

They managed to be ready in only five minutes. Niamh put on a jacket to hide the blood on her t-shirt, and though she was pale, noone could guess she had been shot. They paid for their room and quickly walked to the parking lot before climbing into the rental car. None of them was feeling safe, and Jamie seemed to finally be getting that she killed someone. Her hands were shaking and her breath became uneven, shallow, panicked. Niamh was sitting next to her in the back of the car to comfort her. It was something she never forgot : help and be there for the pack members who felt sad. She could see in the reporter's eyes that she was flashing back to the same scene over and again : the agent strangling Niamh, him noticing her, her grabbing the gun and then firing it five times. And then, the body on the ground, dead.

Jamie suppressed a sob but let escape a silent whine. Her shoulders were retrospectively shaking from fear and shock. Niamh put her right arm, the valid one, around her shoulders and pulled her closer with all the warmth and friendliness she had.

"Shhh, you'll be alright", she whispered to the other woman.

"Did you... Did you ever killed someone ?" she asked so quietly Niamh almost didn't hear her over the car's noise.

"Only animals. I fought metamorphs, but never killed one. And never killed a human either", Niamh replied with a softness Jamie never heard from her.

"Then how do you know I'll be alright ?" Jamie sobbed, breaking the younger girl's heart.

"Because you're strong. You helped Mitch with mad lions, you tracked down Leo Butler, you saw him die, you tracked down Evan Lee Hartley, and you didn't fall apart when you saw me change. It's normal to feel destroyed when you put an end to another life. Even if it was the life of a corrupted asshole who killed a innocent in order to cover his tracks", she reminded her.

Jamie let out a sigh, her breath shaking, and looked up at Niamh. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she looked like she was feeling better. She wiped the last tears welled up in her eyes and attempted a faint smile. She would get better, with time, Niamh thought.

"I didn't even ask you... How are you feeling ? Shaf... You were shot, after all", she said, correcting herself before saying the infamous name.

"It hurts, but I don't think I'm gonna die from it", Niamh replied lightly. She didn't want to worry the reporter with the fact that she almost couldn't feel her fingers now.

"We're almost there", Jackson announced from the front of the car. "Stay strong, only five more minutes."

The last minutes they drove in silence, and when Jackson parked the car, none of them dared to speak either. Niamh was pale, but she held strong and insisted on climbing out of the car, and then go inside the vet's office without help. She was too stubborn and proud to admit that sometimes she could need assistance. The door's ring chimed when they opened it, and a voice came from a room further inside.

"We're closed for now, come back after 2."

Not listening, they reached the door which the voice came from and entered, finding the vet eating. He looked up at them and got up from his office.

"I said..."

"We need help. Our friend's been shot. You have to remove the bullet", Jackson said, his voice like steel.

"I can't do that ! Bring her to a hospital, I'm a vet. Plus, I won't mingle in gunshot wound stories, too dangerous."

"We've got no time to negotiate. Just do it", Niamh growled as she took off her jacket and top to show the fortune bandage they made.

"Hey, I said _no_ ", the man resisted, walking backwards to distance himself from the three weird people who just entered his office.

"And I said _yes_ ", Jamie countered, pulling the gun out of her waistband.

The vet gasped and almost fell to the ground from fear, his gaze fixed at the deadly weapon. They had no more bullets, but he didn't know it. Niamh felt her heart twinge for Jamie, who was still recovering from giving death and was already threatening someone with the very same gun she had killed with. Instead of showing this sadness, she allowed herself to smirk.

"O-Okay... I'll see what I can do..." the man stuttered as he began to search his stuff to find his tools. "It's gonna take a while, you... We should go to the block, there's all I need there", he added, his stress still peaking.

"Good."

Niamh and the other two followed the vet deeper inside the cabinet. They entered another room, cleaner and smelling like chemical products. Niamh frowned and coughed, her enhanced senses disturbed by the odour.

"Okay, just remember I'm not a surgeon, I'm a vet, okay ? I-"

"We know. Just hurry, I can't feel my hand", Niamh growled.

Jackson and Jamie shared a worried glance at her words. She didn't want to scare them, but now they were. Firstly, the vet did a few tests, soflty touching the area around the wound and evaluating where the bullet could be inside her body. Her eyelids were fluttering and she had difficulty keeping her head high. Once his exam was over, the vet put on some latex gloves and helped her lie down on the operating table.

"Okay, so I'm going to sedate you so you don't..."

"No. Just take it out and stitch, I'll heal."

"It's gonna hurt like hell", the man explained slowly.

"He's right, girl", Jackson said, careful to avoid mentioning any name that could have them identified. "We know you're tough, but you don't have to..."

"Quiet. All of you. Just extract the bullet and sew the wound, doc", she insisted.

Even if Jackson and Jamie disagreed, they couldn't do anything about it. The vet gave a plastic dog toy to Niamh who just couldn't help but laugh at the situation. The toy was new and clean from any animal saliva, but have her, a werewolf, bite on a chew toy to fight pain was hilarious. Jackson had a sad smile too, but Jamie just kept her hand on the gun, still trying to figure out how she could be doing this so soon after Shafer's death. So Niamh put the plastic bone in her mouth and prepared herself to not move despite the pain.

Slightly shaking, the vet removed the gauze and examined the wound, becoming more and more professionnal as he focused on the task at hand. He disinfected the area, his tools, and took a deep breath. He then plunged the pliers in the wound, causing Niamh's body to jerk in pain. She let out a low growl, her teeth digging holes in the plastic toy and her heart rate increasing significantly. She did her best not to move too much, though, knowing that he needed her to stay as still as possible. Jamie neared the table and put a reassuring hand on Niamh's other arm, just to show her she was not alone.

"I'm almost there..." the vet whispered, entirely too concentrated on getting the bullet to realize noone could hear him at this volum except for Niamh.

When the tip of the tool touched the bullet, she couldn't suppress the cry of pain she was containing since the beginning of the extraction. Her entire arm was shaking, and Jackson immediately went to block it against the table to prevent her from injuring herself more on the pliers that were still inside her shoulder. Her face was livid and covered in cold sweat, and she couldn't understand why it was so painful. Every second was a struggle. To keep her eyes open, to keep her heart rate and adrenaline in check, to prevent herself for screaming.

"Okay... I got it..." the vet murmured again.

Slowly, he removed the little chunk of metal from her body, and immediately her arm stopped moving like if it was possessed. He discarded the flattened bullet in a nearby plate and grabbed his sewing kit. His hands were red from the metamorph's blood, but now it seemed like he was doing better than a few minutes ago.

"You're lucky. The bullet tore a few tendons, and was deflected by your clavicule. It was pressing against your subclavian artery but didn't pierce it. You may have a bone cracked, and some difficulty to move your arm for a few months, but if you stay calm, you'll eventually recover", he explained softly, as if he had already forgotten that they had threatened him to do this.

He grabbed her left hand and dug his nails in her wrist, looking at her.

"Do you feel it, when I do this ?"

"Ow. Yeah..." Niamh breathed out quietly with a smile, after spitting out the chew toy, looking exhausted.

"Good. I think you'll recover your sensations too. It was just that your arm wasn't correctly pumping your blood. I'm not a surgeon, but I suggest you to put a sling on for the next weeks, okay ? And don't use your arm, it's still weak", he ordered more than he suggested, as he finished to sew her shoulder.

He then applied gauze and bandaged her upper body and arm to be sure it would hold. Incredibly tired, Niamh could barely see in front of her, but she forced herself to stand up, though her legs were shaking, and let Jamie help her put on her clothes again.

"Thank you, doc..." she whispered, eyes half closed and her head doddling. "But we have to clean this mess... Guys, could you... ?"

"Of course, tough girl", Jackson replied with a both sad and happy smile.

They gathered all the compresses, the tools, the dog toy, the needles and pliers the vet used and put them in a plate. Then they soaked them with medical alcohol and burnt them. The vet was horrified, but couldn't do anything as some of his material burned right under his eyes.

"Sorry, but we can't afford to leave any traces", Jackson explained as he pocketed the bullet.

"Who shot her ? Who shot her so you couldn't go to a hospital ?" the man asked with genuine concern.

Maybe it was because he was a doctor, that he cared for people in pain that he forgot so quickly that they didn't come peacefully to him but threatened him. Or maybe it was because he was just a nice guy who was just scared of them until he saw they wouldn't actually hurt him. Niamh, Jackson and Jamie glanced at each other, trying to decide whether to tell him or not.

"We..." Jamie began slowly, trying to find the right words. "We found something important. Like _really_ important. And... we were working with..."

"J, you shouldn't say that", Jackson interrupted her brusquely.

"FBI shot me", Niamh said flatly, her eyes closed now though she was still miraculously standing. "Was corrupted... Tried to kill her too..."

The vet stared at the three of them with utter shock on his face, and had to sit to not collapse to the ground. Jackson sighed at the sudden revelation of Niamh, but didn't object more. What was done was done. He helped her lean on him and turned towards the exit.

"Thank you for your help. And... sorry about the gun."

"We didn't have bullets, anyway", Jamie added, with what sounded like a dry laugh.

They left the vet behind them, still trying to process what just had happened to him, and got to their car quickly. Niamh fell asleep almost immediately after Jackson started to drive, and didn't even notice the brief stop they made to ditch the gun and bullet in the bay. She only woke up when they arrived at the airport. They booked tickets to Washington and climbed in the plane as soon as it was there. Once again, Niamh slept during all the flight, skipping lunch while the two others ordered food. She didn't move from an inch during the whole journey, and was especially hard to wake, this time, but she seemed to be better than before. Still sleepy and weak, but she was less pale.

They followed the crowd of people heading towards the lobby and then changed directions to go to the airport bar. While driving to the airport, Jackson had received a text from Chloé : they were back from Rio and would wait for them at Washington's airport. Niamh in tow, they walked towards the table Chloé's group was sitting at. Even though she was half unconscious and her shoulder was throbbing, she could faintly hear Mitch bragging in the distance.

"So... what's next ? I'm feeling kind of cocky after beating a bat plague with $20 worth of used hardware. Bring it !" the vet said with joy.

Niamh and the others arrived at this moment and sat next to them on the couches of the bar. The metamorph was breathing heavily, her injured shoulder sending waves after waves of pain because she still had not found a sling to wrap around her arm, and she had to keep it close to her, forcing her muscles to work. She let herself fall on the seat with a pained wince but didn't allow herself to make any noise.

"Niamh, are you okay ?" Abraham and Chloé immediately said, before even saluting Jackson and Jamie.

"Long story short : it hurts but I'm fine. I'll let you discuss about what we found and just rest a little..." she muttered as she leaned on Jamie's shoulder, who was now sitting next to her.

Jackson took the last place, next to Abraham and leaned forward, inviting the others to do so as well so the could talk quietly. Jamie carefully took the Mother Cell from her bag and discreetly showed it to the others with a triumphant expression.

"What is it ?" Chloé asked, trying to understand why she should be overjoyed to see a metal cylinder containing some yellowish cristal.

"They call it the Mother Cell", Jamie replied quietly on a conspiratorial tone.

"What the hell is a Mother Cell ?" Mitch quiered, casting a glance at Chloé, who looked at Jackson, who could just manage to look like the world might end.

"We found Leo Butler", he explained. "He told us that it wasn't his bacteria that got the animals becoming mad, it was the Mother Cell, and it is present in every Reiden product. And they know it."

He lowered his gaze, staring at the floor and biting his lip, not really knowing how to put it right. Eventually, he let out a deep sigh and raised his head.

"Shafer was with us, he threatened to turn us in for hacking if we didn't let him come with us. So we found Butler, he told us everything he knew, and brought us the Mother Cell. We... crossed paths with Evan Lee Hartley. No, don't interrupt me, please", he said to Chloé, who was already trying to get some explanations. "We tracked him down and found him. He tried to use the Mother Cell to cure himself. Apparently, my dad did something to him that made him kill these hunters, and made him the alpha of the wolf pack back at the prison. He died from his 'treatment'. And then Shafer betrayed us. No, still no interruption please, you'll ask your questions later. He attacked Jamie and tried to steal the Mother Cell. Niamh fought him and... well he won't be a problem anymore", he concluded, casting a sorry glance at Jamie, whose eyes were darkening with sadness.

"You killed him ?" Chloé hissed in both surprise and horror to the drowsy metamorph.

"I did", Jamie corrected, avoiding everyone's eyes. "He was choking Niamh and he had shot her, I couldn't let him do."

Mitch put his face in his hands, looking concerned and terrified of potential consequences. He sighed loudly before looking at Jamie with understanding in his gaze. She quietly thanked him just by returning his stare. Abraham however, looked blasted and stunned. And Chloé was trying to think logically, pushing aside any emotional consideration.

"Okay. So Shafer's dead. Who could have sent him if it wasn't the FBI ? 'Cause you know, FBI wouldn't attack people like that, right ?" Mitch asked eventually.

"My money's on Reiden, and don't you dare tell me I'm being paranoid again", Jamie said, still staying very little expressive to not disturb Niamh.

"Actually that would make sense", the vet replied with a shrug. "An agent of FBI could easily get to us without resistance. But my real question was : who knew we were investigating ? I mean... Butler stole the Mother Cell, fine. But he was hidden. Shafer approached us at the Prison, right ? So he already knew something was up. Reiden knew about the side effects of the Mother Cell, you said. Someone there had to tell him, fine. But how did he got to us ?"

"Easy. Jamie's hacker friends sent her data on Reiden, and he just followed it to find us", Jackson explained.

"With the FBI ressources ? After you told me he went rogue ?" Mitch said like he doubted it.

"He hacked into Butler's account... With his computer... He could have done it by himself..." Niamh mumbled, proving she was still awake and listening.

"Well, at least we know that we may have Reiden to be wary of too, and not just animals. And the FBI, now."

Jamie lowered her head in an apologetic look. She was still shaken from what she had done, but she didn't regret it. She had spoken the truth, earlier. Shafer was about to kill Niamh, she couldn't let him do it.

"Fine", Chloé suddenly said in the awkward silence. "We need to find a hotel and painkillers for Niamh, she doesn't look so great..."

"I'm fine..." the girl groaned with annoyance to hide how much her shoulder was killing her.

"Yeah, keep telling that to yourself", Mitch scoffed. "You need a sling and to rest. And your jacket is going to not be enough if you keep bleeding, 'cause I can already see smears of red on your shoulder."

Niamh grumbled and put her hand up to her shoulder to hide the stains. She then got up clumsily, eyes half closed, and tried to shoulder her bag. Once again, Jamie beat her to it and grabbed it in addition of her own.

"Let's go."

* * *

 **AN_2 : I'm not a doctor and I didn't follow medicine studies, so I had to look on the Internet for the "extracting the bullet" part, so don't yell at me if it's full of incoherences ^^'**


	11. Chapter 11 : Please, be a butter-bear

**CHAPTER 11**

Chloé took charge of things. She made a call to a forger and gave him an appointment later in the day to craft fake ID's for Jamie. She was the one who killed Shafer, so she needed them. However, Chloé said that even if Niamh wrestled with the dirty agent, she wouldn't need some for herself. The metamorph pointed out that she had bled on the crime scene, putting herself in danger if the forensics was able to identify her DNA, but Chloé was confident, and Niamh decided to trust her. After all, she was their leader and knew how these agencies worked from the inside. In addition, she was still tired and not perfectly ready for an argument.

On the way to the warehouse the forger worked in, they stopped by a drugstore to purchase a sling for Niamh's injured shoulder. Putting in on was a torture, but she put on a brave face and endured the pain without so much as a wince. After that, the strain on her arm was already greatly lessened and she started to feel better. They bought painkillers as well and then headed to their appointment. Outside the building, they took care to double check that they weren't followed before entering.

The man welcomed them coldly, like he had better to do and immediately started to order them around. Niamh didn't like it, but she accepted to play nice for Jamie. She _needed_ these papers, she couldn't just screw this up because she couldn't bear to obey commands just for a little while. So she nicely sat in a corner, not far away from Abraham. She was staring blankly at the bottle of pills she was holding, silently cursing her fast metabolism that treated the drugs quickly. Since they bought them, she had already used three times the dose a human could take, and the pain was still raging. She pocketed the bottle with an aggravated sigh, her classic bad mood worsened by the pain.

"Are you okay ?" Abe asked her while Jamie was trying to tell the forger that he needed her to actually be ready for the photos.

"It hurts. Sometimes, having an overactive metabolism isn't so great. Okay, I heal fast, but that means that I evacuate the painkillers faster too."

"Couldn't you take something stronger ?" he suggested with hesitation.

"I guess I could. But how do you explain to a pharmacist you want ketamin or morphin for medical issues and not recreational issues ?" she half-joked with a sarcastic smile.

Abe laughed at her attempt to lighten the atmosphere and looked at her with sympathy. She had dark bags under her eyes and seemed very tired, but she never complained. However, he remarked that she seemed more at peace than when she still had to deal with her arm without the sling.

"I have no idea, but if I find one, I'll tell you first."

"Thanks, big guy. Look, Jamie's done with the photos", she made note as she showed him the reporter approaching them while Chloé was talking with the other.

Jamie still looked a bit shaken, but seemed strong nonetheless. She stopped next to the tall guy and the metamorph, a weary gleam in her eyes.

"This is ridiculous. I should turn myself in", she said bluntly.

"I know. You said that. Just drink the iced tea, it will make you feel better", Abe replied, handing her the goblet.

"Look, seriously... I shot a man", she whispered with a hint of panic in her voice. "An FBI agent. I-I can't just walk away from that."

"No. I won't let you say this, Jamie. You shot a son of a bitch who tied you up in your room, threatened to kill you, actually killed a doctor to cover his tracks, stole the Mother Cell probably to bring it to Reiden, _did_ shoot _me_ and tried to strangle me. In my point of view, you're a god damn hero !" Niamh defended her with a mix of compassion and agressivity.

Jamie avoided her gaze, slightly blushing from the compliment, but she wouldn't let go of the argument.

"So let's do something about it. Let's prove that not-really-FBI-agent Ben Shafer was working for Reiden. Instead of..." she trailed off and gestured towards the counterfeiter.

"We will", Abe simply stated with so much tranquil assurance that Jamie's panic immediately was eased.

"We will ?" she wondered quietly, hope shining in her eyes.

"Yes, we will. All of us, we'll find something. But for now, you need these papers, to keep you safe", Niamh added with a soft voice, only disrupted by small alterations due to the pain.

"How ?" the other girl whispered.

"We don't know yet, but we won't let you down, Jamie. You're one of us", Abraham comforted her.

From further, Niamh heard that the conversation between Chloé and the forger was not going well, as the French analyst was raising her voice at him. And then there was money changing hands and suddenly he became more compliant.

"I need a name", he said to Jamie. "For the passport."

"Um... Armstrong. Nancy Armstrong", she eventually answered, her voice cracking a little as she spoke.

She shared a glance with Abe and Niamh, who just frowned, sensing something was off. But at least, they were protecting the reporter, so she pushed her concern aside and just smiled at her weakly.

From time to time, she tried to move her fingers. They were still a little numb, but sometimes she had tingles in her entire arm, making it almost impossible to stay still because it was so upsetting. Her shoulder however, was sore and she couldn't move it, even so slightly. Every attempt of movement sent waves of suffering throughout her whole body. The only moments when she didn't feel like crap was the first hour after taking her pills. Then she could think clearly whithout having these pangs of pain. But eventually the analgesic would wear off and there she was again, struggling against pain.

In the next room, some sort of office, Mitch and Jackson were talking about the Mother Cell, the zoologist filling the vet in on what they learnt with Butler. Abe and Jamie were idly chattering about everything and nothing, and she was trying to guess what would happen to them now. They had the Mother Cell, they knew Reiden was trying to find it too and that they sent Shafer after them. Or at least, the group strongly suspected it. So now that Shafer was dead, they had to hide Jamie, protect her, while trying to find more evidence of the implication of the Mother Cell in the animal rebellion. Her head was panging with pain, echoing her shoulder, but she kept thinking. They had to find more proof. Which meant they had to find more animals, with something in their organism that proved they were exposed to the Mother Cell, and that it was what made them mad.

She wiped her forehead tiredly and closed her eyes before sighing heavily. This was not an easy mission, for sure... She glanced at her phone for the thousandth time since they landed in Washington. She hesitated about telling Richard or not. She didn't know if their phones were listened or not, and now that Shafer was dead, she couldn't afford risking their safety by calling her best friend because she needed comfort. She put it back into her pocket and sighed again, looking around her. It was a big warehouse, full of foreign material she didn't know what was made for. She was about to get up from her chair to join Abe and Jamie when Chloé walked to them.

"We're going to Paris", she started, staring at each one of the three. "The trackers of four Eurasian bears went offline, and one of them was found in an apartment at the 16th arrondissement. It nearly killed the woman who lived there."

She stared at Niamh, who just stared back and prepared herself mentally to face bears. They had met wolves, and now it was the bears' turn.

"Fine. Just _perfect_ ", she sarcastically said.

"Why ? Are you not happy, even a little, to go back to France ?" Jamie piped in.

"Not really. Well, I'm glad to see my birth country again but..." she trailed of and sighed sadly, seeming much more tired than before. "It may be dangerous. I don't know if the pack from Île-de-France will let me roam free. They were not very close to my uncle's, but... You know, there was a 'no sheltering' order after all, and _that_ was before the coup. Now I don't know if I'm even allowed to live", she added.

Jamie put a comforting hand on her valid shoulder with a friendly smile. Niamh let out a short laugh, almost like a bark.

"And frankly ? No offense, Chloé, but Brittany is so much better than Paris", she bantered with a mocking smile.

Their leader smiled back in amusement, aware of the everlasting more or less friendly quarrels between the capital and the provinces.

"I'll get to sleep in the plane, though. But I think I won't be totally healed when we land. I'll need at least a week to be sure my arm can move freely, and absolutely no transformation at all..." she explained more calmly.

"I have to tell it to Mitch and Jackson. Jamie, your passport will be ready in an hour, we'll go then."

The reporter nodded and turned to Abe and Niamh with an encouraging face. A few minutes after Chloé left, Mitch exited the warehouse, telling them that he was going to the drugstore for melatonin. They stayed here the next hour, waiting for Jamie's passport to be finished, and then they were off to the airport. They booked their tickets and got in the plane. Niamh swallowed three painkillers at a time, slightly worrying the person next to her as well as Abe, who was her neighbour too, and used the sensation of numbness she quickly felt to fall asleep. The flight lasted a bit more than eight hours and thanks to the large dose of drugs, she managed to stay asleep all along.

They immediately headed to the animal test lab when they landed, except for Chloé and Jackson who decided to meet with the crisis unit. They said they could help them look into the right direction and tell them what they knew about the odd behavior the bears could demonstrate.

Right now, the rest of the group, Abraham, Jamie, Mitch and Niamh, were in the lab, examining the sleeping bear. Niamh was sitting on a desk chair with wheels and entertained herself by spinning on herself slowly while listening to Mitch and the others.

"So how do we tell if he's been infected by the Mother Cell ?" Abraham said to the vet.

"Grab me that tray of test tubes over there, will you ?" Mitch asked to Jamie, who obeyed. "I'm gonna take a blood panel and hope that some foreign elements will show up. If they do, I'll compare their chemical structure with the Mother Cell. And if they match, we've got our answer", he explained.

"So basically, you're looking for a... fingerprint. Chemically speaking", Jamie suggested.

"Look at you. Getting all science-y", Mitch bantered, causing Jamie to roll her eyes in wry amusement. "Ten drops each in each of those test tubes. And as backup, we'll take a DNA sample. Takes a little longer, but might as well while we're here, right ?" he added as he was directing the group like a real leader. "Would you mind taking a swab from our friend's mouth, there ?"

He gave a Q-tip to Abraham, who looked rather unsure about the safety of this procedure, but agreed nonetheless. Niamh stopped playing with her chair and got up.

"While we're here, maybe you should run a DNA test on me too. Who knows, maybe we'll find something", she shrugged.

"We already discussed this, Niamh. Whatever affects you when you transform, it doesn't when you're human. So it's pointless", Mitch countered.

"How would you know ? You didn't try, and I didn't object because at the moment we were talking about a bacteria and because we didn't have this lab", she retorted, gesturing around herself to show the place. "DNA doesn't change from human to animal form. It is what we _are_. If there's something to find, you'll find it in my DNA."

Mitch bit his lip in annoyance and reflexion while Abraham was approaching the sampling Q-tip from the unconscious bear. When he was close enough, the monitors started to freak out, saying clearly that the animal was waking up. Niamh took a combat stance, ready to defend her friends even if she was still injured.

"He's waking up", Abe worried.

"Oh that's okay", Mitch casually discarded their concern.

"Says you", Abe replied with slight worry on his face.

Jamie glanced at Niamh, and saw the girl was almost growling at the still sleeping bear.

"No, really, it's... Even in hibernation, a bear's heart rate increases when a... when a predator approaches. It's nature's little warning signal. Apparently, you're quite predatory", Mitch said wryly to a not so serene Abraham. "And to come back to our business, Niamh, you do realize that I can't run a DNA test alone. I'll have to let the lab do it, and they'll wonder what DNA it is. I can't say it's human and I can't say it's animal. Abe, put the sample in one of those little baggies over there."

Abraham nodded and went to do that while the vet kept doing two things in the same time.

"I don't know, just say... it's... a test. Something confidential about the bears and other animals that acted strangely", Niamh tried to defend her point.

"Yeah, and what happens when they realize there's animal and human DNA mixed up ? 'Cause I'm hundred percent sure you won't be hundred percent human or animal... You could even have none of these two types of DNA and be something completely different !" he snapped back as he leaned on the bear, not triggering his heart rate, before opening his eyelid. "Huh..."

"Huh, what ?" Jamie stepped in, rather tired of being left aside.

"His eye is normal... Come take a look. No defiant pupil", he said to Jamie as she came closer.

"But that doesn't make any sense. If he was exposed to the Mother Cell, his pupil should be..."

"All big and scary. Yeah, it should be", Mitch concluded, letting go of the bear's eyelid.

"That still doesn't settle things. I mean... I don't have a defiant pupil either. As least not all the time. And Hartley had one but we didn't know how that was possible. There's still a huge dark area about this thing we have left to explore. Look, take this", she said as she swiped a sampler in her mouth and put it in one of the bags next to the bear's sample. She wrote ' ' on the bag, to identify it as her sample, and gave it to the vet. "If we find nothing, well... fine. But if it helps, we have to try."

"And what about your species ?" Jamie soflty asked, genuinely concerned.

"Well... I don't want to sound too dramatic about it, but if we're all infected... With every day passing, the chances that we find one of them still lucid keep decreasing and there will be no point in hiding anymore 'cause we'll all be mindless beasts. I'm willing to take the risk", she said, before letting out a cynical and dry laugh. "For the greater good", she added with wry humor.

"You know... you don't have to..."

"I want to", Niamh interrupted Jamie a bit harshly. "First because it might help. Second because I'm curious. I don't know if my pack ever did DNA tests. We had our own scientists and doctors, and they were quite competent so I guess they had to research our DNA at some point. But I never studied it. I... left... before I could."

Her voice cracked a little on the last sentence, but she feigned not to notice. Mitch sighed again but eventually raised his hands in surrender.

"Fine. I'll do it."

She thanked him with a nod and sat back on her wheelchair, waiting for Chloé and Jackson to text them when they would be over with the crisis unit.

XXXXXXXXXX

Later in the evening, they all gathered in Chloé's apartment. It was rather big for an apartment in midtown, and all of them could fit in the different rooms. They went shopping before coming, and Jackson and Mitch were now in the kitchen, stowing the groceries while discussing the bear subject. Niamh lent them a hand, though she was slower beause she could only use one arm. She could hear Abe and Chloé talking in the corridor, something about the guest room, the sofa, and wine. She smiled lightly at Abe's concern for alcohol, and kept tidying their purchases.

"So I... No defiant pupil ? What does that mean ?" Jackson wondered.

"I don't know yet", Mitch answered. "But it doesn't necessarily mean that the bear wasn't affected by the Mother Cell. After all, you've seen by yourself that Niamh doesn't always have this particularity either. Blood tabs should be back in a couple of hours."

"Okay. But why else would a bear be hibernating in the middle of summer ?" the zoologist pointed out.

Mitch came back from the fridge, where he was storing fresh vegetables, and leaned against the table in the middle of the kitchen.

"There are two types of hibernation, okay ?" he began explaining, a pepper in his hand. "One is what we normally think of, Yogi Bear goes into a deep suspended animation to survive a winter of scarce resources. The other, is when an animal falls temporarily dormant, so the resources can be biologically redirected."

"What does that mean, 'redirected' ?" Jackson quiered from the other side of the kitchen, helping Niamh to store a pack of bottles of milk.

"Like a... caterpillar turning into a butterfly, or... when little kids sleep so deeply when they're growing', Mitch explained more clearly.

"So... you mean you think that the bear's changing ?"

"I think it's possible. The question is... into what ?" Mitch gazed at them with both a questionning look and scientific enthusiasm.

"Please, be a butter-bear", Niamh joke-prayed with a half-smile.

"A what now ?"

"A butter-bear. A butterfly-bear. I would give money to this bear if he could just change into a nice and beautiful butter-bear with shiny wings."

The two men stared at her like she had gone crazy.

"How many pills did you take recently ?" Jackson finally asked with concern.

"Oh come on ! Am I not allowed to _joke_ ? We faced telepathic lions, bats able to fly so high they could attack planes, angry wolves, domestic dogs in wild packs, and God knows what still awaits us. If the bears could transform into something nice, I'd be much more than happy, wouldn't you be too ?"

Mitch snorted and shrugged, for once agreeing with her.

"She has a point", he said to Jackson, and resumed to his prior occupation, before freezing again and looking at the girl as if he was about to speak. "Do you think you could change into something else as well ?"

"That is actually a smart thought."

"I happen to have those sometimes, yes", he retorted snidely.

"I don't know", she answered, ignoring his attack. "I never stayed transformed long enough to begin to feel anything change apart from my lucidity. And I'm not exactly wolf or bear. It doesn't work like that. God, I don't even actually _know_ how it works..." she realized, slightly bewildered and annoyed. "I don't know if regular werewolves have wolf DNA, or if they're human with a special gene, I don't know if the Berserker actually have a DNA that would look like a werewolf's. At the beginning, Berserkers were only humans, warriors who went through a shamanic ritual to become what they were, and then, through a trance, they could change. They could even have a regular human DNA as far as I know !" she almost complained, looking pained by her own ignorance about her kind.

She let herself down on the nearest chair and wiped her face with a loud, heavy and sad sigh. She had never thought of how her species worked, and felt guilty about that, about never trying to learn more. And now that they needed the knowledge more than anything else, she could only look at the others and say that she couldn't help them with the very thing she was supposed to manage. Jackson walked to her and put a comforting hand on her good shoulder with a reassuring smile.

"We'll figure it out, don't worry", he said softly. "Besides, imagine if _you_ were to become a butter-bear if you slept long enough", he bantered to lighten her mood.

It worked, and they shared an amused glance. The simple thought of herself with butterfly wings succeeded to elicit a laugh from her.

"Come on. I'll help you do the bed in the guest room", he said, reaching out his hand for her to take as a help to stand up.

He left her in the guest room and went to Chloé's, whom he saw going into. They shared a few words that Niamh preferred not to listen in and a few seconds later, Jackson was back with a bunch of blankets and sheets.

"Delavane asked to meet Chloé. She'll come back later. I think he wants to know how much progress we made", he stated casually as he helped her to put on the sheets on the mattress.

"Do you think he knows ? About Shafer ?" she wondered in an undertone.

Jackson cast a glance at the door, checking that Jamie wasn't there. Niamh pricked up her ears and confirmed she was on the balcony with Abraham, allowing Jackson to talk freely.

"I don't know. If Shafer was really an FBI agent then maybe the FBI would send a warrant to every police, and Delavane would eventually know. Other possibility, Shafer lied about his job, but I don't buy it. He had too much knowledge about too many things."

"I believe that too, but then, why haven't we heard of it yet ?" she smoothed the sheets and winced when she accidentally moved her shoulder. "An FBI agent murdered in a hotel, Chloé would already have received news from her contacts."

"Maybe they haven't found him yet..." Jackson suggested with a hint of hope.

Niamh sighed as they finished to do the bed and massaged her sore shoulder carefully, wincing anyway at the sharp pain that irradiated from her wound. Jackson gestured towards her sling with a movement from his chin, hands on his hips.

"You should show this to Mitch. See if he can redo your bandage, check that nothing's wrong with it, that you're healing well."

She nodded and dropped her other arm along her body.

"You're right. Let's go bother Mitch, then", she jested with a smile.

As she walked past the zoologist, she realized that she really had warmed up to the others. In the beginning she was grumpy and sarcastic, always shooting snide comments at Mitch for the very same bad mood she displayed. She remembered when she used to think that these people wouldn't ever become close to her, that she was there only because of Alves, that they would never become _pack_ to her. And there she stood anyway. Diving straight into danger to protect them from mad wolves or dirty agents. And now she even got injured for them.

She reached the kitchen, where Mitch was cooking alone, and sat on the same chair as before. What he was making smelled good, probably something to do with the fact that he was grilling meat and that she was starving.

"Oh, here you are", he said when he finally noticed her. "I thought you could use the protein. You know, to heal", he said clumsily, avoiding her gaze and focusing again on the pan.

"Thanks", she replied soflty, not sure why they weren't their usual selves, arguing and pestering each other. "Do you think you could... take a look at the bandage ? See if everything's fine."

"Yeah, sure..." he answered uneasily.

He too seemed to have noticed the awkwardness. He lowered the power of the heat under the pan, checked that his vegetables weren't burning either, and neared the injured metamorph. Carefully, his hands a bit shaking, he helped her remove the sling and push the clothe from her shoulder so he could see clearly. He collected his medical kit and dragged a chair to face her. He sat on it and began taking off the bandage. Usually, you would change it every two days, but since she healed faster than a human, they needed to monitor her state every day to be able to react quickly if something was wrong.

The edges of the wound were still red and swollen, but the bleeding had stopped. The stitches held firm even though she had unintentionally used her muscle. He picked a compress from his medical bag, applied disinfectant on it and softly wiped the wound, making her wince when the product went into contact with her injury. He then patched again her shoulder, putting gauze on the stitched area, and bandaged her upper arm again to make sure it held.

"There. It should suffice for now. That vet did a good job", he mumbled as he packed up his things while she put the sling back on.

"Thank you. Do you want help with the dinner ?"

"No, I'm good. Go sit with the others. Order of the doctor", he joked hesitantly.

"Are we finally getting along with each other ?" Niamh snorted sarcastically.

"Keep dreaming", he retorted with his usual bite, badly hiding a smile.

They later gathered around the table in the living room, waiting for Chloé to return, and began talking with each other, until Abraham asked for their attention. Jamie was looking uneasy beside him and avoided to make eye contact with anyone. Niamh found this odd, but didn't remark it as the tall husky guy opened his mouth.

"We need to do something for Jamie. She can't stay the person of interest for all her life, we need to prove that Shafer was corrupted", he stated, immediately bringing up the subject he wanted to talk.

"So... no beating around the bush, huh..." Mitch said, sipping his whisky.

"No. We need a plan. There are Reiden offices here in Paris..." Abe continued, and eyed Jamie.

"...and from what we know, all their systems are connected. If we managed to get inside, we could track their finances", she finished his sentence, showing that she really wanted to be a part of this, and not let the others deal with her problem without her.

They discussed the subject during the next hour, still waiting for Chloé's return. Niamh was a bit apprehensive about it, fearing that she wouldn't allow the operation and commanded them to focus on the animal rebellion and the bears.

"Okay, but how do we get past the facial recognition ?" Jamie pointed out after a moment.

"No problem. All we need is an employee with top-level access", Jackson explained calmly.

"Right, because why would that be a problem ?" Mitch scoffed from the other side of the table.

"He has a point. How do you intend to convince them to let us use their face to get past the security ? We're not from Reiden, it would be strange. Plus, if they tell someone after that, we're screwed", Niamh added distractedly, staring at the piece of meat in her plate.

Chloé then entered the room, closing the door behind her, and neared them, putting her bag aside on the nearest table.

"Hey. How is it going ?" the analyst said eagerly. "Oh, before any of you answer, Niamh, I have news. I asked Delavane if he could destroy the blackmailing documents. He already ordered Alves to do it, but he looked like he wasn't sure he was obeyed."

Niamh nodded, avoiding her gaze. She was forced to join the team in the first place, and even though now she truly wanted to do something, there still was this sword of Damocles hanging above her head.

"So, what were you talking about ?"

"Abe had an idea, a good one", Jackson announced proudly, placing a hand on the tall guy's shoulder.

"About the bears ?"

"No, about Jamie. She can't spend the rest of her life running", the giant responded.

"I agree. Trust me, I've been running from a vengeful pack for the past three years, and it's not funny", Niamh muttered, hiding behind her glass of water.

"We have to get her out of it by proving that Ben Shafer was on Reiden's payroll", Abe continued as if he wasn't interrupted.

Jamie glanced at Chloé, looking for her approbation. It was a dangerous plan, and it was all for cleaning her name from the accusations against her. The french agent gazed back at her and the others in an expectative stance, waiting to listen to their plan.

"Reiden has an office here in Paris", Jackson began. "We're breaking in."

She just stared at him, looking both amused and disbelieving. One could almost hear her mind screaming 'are you fucking kidding me ?!', while she sported a minuscule smile at the corner of her lips. Jamie was eyeing her in complete desperation, fearing that she would not accept the plan and condemn her to live with the accusations. But Chloé was their leader, she protected them no matter what, and as a leader, she paid attention to what they were proposing.

XXXXXXXXXX

"So the Paris Reiden office only handles European contracts, but their computer network is linked to the central system back in Boston, which means, if we hack into their system, we can prove that Ben Shafer was on their payroll", Jackson exposed while helping cleaning the table after eating.

Chloé was sitting at the table, trying to follow the explanations and to assess the risks of this plan. There were a lot, and she couldn't list them all, Niamh could read it in her concerned expression. Even the part where they entered Reiden's office hall was dangerous. If someone had already found Shafer's body and they didn't know about it, they could be wanted. Security agents could recognize them and arrest them. Leaning against the back of her chair, Niamh pulled her legs close to herself, taking great care not to move her left arm, and put her chin on her knees.

"How are we gonna do that ?" Chloé wondered.

"What, the hacking into the system part, or the proving part ?" Mitch scoffed, uncorking a bottle of wine.

"Both", the blonde said, looking uncertain.

"Here", the vet handed her a glass of red wine. "Makes more sense if you drink this."

"Can I have one too ?" Niamh spoke up.

"Uh... yeah, sure. As long as you don't take pills in addition", Mitch warned.

"Mitch, stop that, or someone's gonna start to think you actually care", Jamie snickered, causing Mitch to slightly redden in annoyance and embarrassment.

"Okay, so... Second part first", Jackson tried again.

"Uh, I've done investigations like this for stories I've written. Corporations keep track of every penny of their finances, so if there's a payoff to Ben Shafer, it'll be in their accounting records. We just access the finances and follow the paper trail", Jamie explained.

Niamh reminded herself that the reporter was exactly that : a reporter, an investigator, and not just the woman Mitch insisted on taking with him when he was recruited by Alves. She also remembered the day when Shafer found them in their hotel room, when Jamie had located Butler. She had some experience with following electronic trails, and she wouldn't let go of the bone she found.

"Presuming that he used his real name", Chloé said, tempering Jamie's eagerness with her own practical mind of terrorist hunter.

"Uh, agreed. It's not necessarily going to be easy, but there's aways something. Uh, money that moves from one account to another. Numbers that don't add up..." the reporter defended herself, quite accurately, as she brought back plates to the kitchen.

"That's your specialty, right ? Recognizing patterns", Abe spoke up to Chloé.

"Okay, you say once we access their finances", the DGSE agent repeated slowly. "How are we gonna do that ?"

Jackson stood from the table and started speaking with his hands, being very expressive.

"That's the cool part. See, as far as we can tell, all top-level Reiden executives have access to their entire computer network. But the system doesn't use passwords. It uses facial recognition. So we just need to locate an executive with access and then trick their system into thinking they're signing into their account", he explained clearly.

"And that's where you come in", Abraham continued, drawing attention on him. "This is going to be a team effort. Even Mitch."

Said man turned to the group, distracting himself from the plate he was washing, and frowned like he wouldn't want to join this operation for a million dollars.

"We're presuming there are thousands of documents to comb through, so we're going to copy the records onto a computer with enough storage space. The one in the animal lab."

"And what's my role ?" Chloé wondered. For now, they only talked about Mitch and Jamie hacking into the system.

"You get to have some fun", Abe smiled at her. "You will trick the guy into letting you show his face to the camera."

Niamh set her empty glass on the table and stretched longly, popping her joints all along her spine in the process. She winced when she accidentally strained her shoulder and got up from her chair to help cleaning the table.

"So we're doing it ?" she said. "We're breaking into Reiden's system ? Not that I'm opposed to it, I'm actually pretty thrilled by the idea, it's just that... There's a lot of risks. If we're found... Well I don't need to tell you what they could do to us..."

"We can't leave Jamie in this situation, you know it", Abe argued. "If _you_ had killed him during your fight, we would have done the same thing for you."

"I know you would."

She sighed deeply, unconsciously moving her hand to touch her injured shoulder thoughtfully.

"Look, I'm just scared. You're going to take great risks, and I don't want you to be in danger. I can protect you against a pack of wolves or even a dirty FBI agent during an actual fight, but I can't protect you if the entire police looks after you because you did something illegal."

Her voice almost broke at the end of the sentence, and her concern could be seen in her ice blue eyes. She was clenching and unclenching her right fist in stress, and despite the pain, she was trying to do the same with her left.

"Hey", Jackson uttered soflty. "Remember what we said about dealing with stress ? -she nodded- Everything's gonna be alright. It's just another impossible mission that we're going to rock like heroes."

She had a short laugh, hesitant, her anxiety still remaining despite of his attempt to lighten her mood. The reason why she was so stressed wasn't only about the risks there was to hack into Reiden and potentially being spotted by their security. As she had realized a few days ago, after her transformation in the woods next to Biloxi Penitentiary, she had started to feel protective over the other members of the team. Overly protective even. She managed to hide it rather well, most of the time, putting on a mask of sarcasm and indifference, but since the Butler-Hartley incident, she couldn't hide it anymore.

She _cared_ for these people. She cared for them like she cared for Richard. And the mere idea of them being injured or in danger was almost physically painful to her. She knew it was a typical wolf behavior, and especially an alpha behavior : caring for their pack, wanting to protect it at all costs. She never really tried to lead anyone, but she felt like it was her duty to be the shield facing any danger to keep the others safe. Now, with her arm in a sling, unable to change into her animal counterpart, and incapacitated by the pain that surged throughout her whole body everytime she made a wrong move, she felt completely useless. And this feeling was slowly turning into a more animal feeling of panic and unpredictability.

"Just... don't do anything too reckless tomorrow, okay ?" she almost pleaded.

"Don't worry, we'll handle this", Chloé reassured her.

"You know, keep saying things like that, and people are going to start thinking you actually care, and that you're not just a bitchy teenager", Mitch added snidely, quoting Jamie's earlier words.

She glared at him but didn't retaliate. She _did_ care after all.

"I think we should go to sleep. Tomorrow's a big day", Jamie said after a moment.

They all agreed and dispatched in the different rooms. Chloé sharing hers with Niamh, whom she didn't want to sleep on the couch like the girl proposed to do, Abe and Jackson in the guest room and Jamie and Mitch on the sofa. They were all a little piled up on each other, but they didn't have much of a choice. Still recovering, Niamh slept deeply and almost immediately, after meaningless conversation with the analyst.

In the morning, though she was well rested, she felt anxiety crawl back into her heart, sinking in its teeth like a leech. She could barely eat her breakfast, her insides twisting like snakes. When they were all ready to go, she gathered all the calm she could muster and followed the others to the cars. She didn't even look through the window, though the others did. After all, they were Paris, the famous City of Lights, the most beautiful city in the world. Even though they were here for work, they could enjoy the view.

It took them half an hour to reach Reiden offices. They climbed out of the car, staring up at the huge building with a hint of stress on their faces. Niamh began to follow them when a sudden feeling of being watched made her stop dead in her tracks. The others kept walking without noticing her stop and entered the hall of Reiden offices. She, however, was searching for the reason why she felt observed. She looked around her, smelling the odours and listening to anything strange. There was so many people... walking by, talking, laughing... She winced when her enhanced senses suddenly became her worst ennemies, almost incapacitating her. So much, even, that she didn't notice the man approaching her until the last second.

She growled and pushed him back when he grabbed her arm. He scowled too and almost bared his teeth, even though they were in public. Their eyes were turning to gold in anger as they were ready to fight in the middle of the street. Knowing she couldn't transform, Niamh did her best to contain her wolf counterpart while still looking like she could snap at any moment and attack the other metamorph.

She didn't know his smell, but she didn't know every single metamorph in the world, so it was normal. However, she recognized a certain hint in his odour she identified as the mark of the pack of Paris. She had met their alpha, once, back in the days. Her uncle and parents had brought her to a diplomatic trip to the capital, and she had met the man. He was a rather young wolf, only fifty years old, and followed suit to his father. She remembered him as a pleasant man, but didn't like him all the same.

" _Qu'est-ce que tu veux ?_ " (What do you want ?) she growled at the wolf with a slight accent. After so long speaking English only, her French was a bit rusty.

" _Tu ne devrais pas être là. Tu as été bannie_ " (You shouldn't be here. You were banned), he grunted back, not bothered by the strange looks they were getting.

" _Ouais, et qu'est-ce que tu vas faire, hein ?_ " (Yeah, and what are you gonna do about that ?) she challenged him, perfectly knowing that she shouldn't. " _Il y a des humains partout, et on sait tous les deux que je te mettrais la misère. Tu fais pas le poids face à un alpha_ " (There are humans everywhere, and we both know that I would crush you. You are no match for an alpha), she hissed lowly, her whole attitude dominant and menacing.

The wolf flinched at her intonation but growled louder. Secretly, she envied him. She could see he was fuming, but he controlled his transformation, unlike the Berserkers and herself. Anger didn't trigger the change. _She_ had to be extremely careful when she angered herself.

" _Tu es_ blessée _, je te tuerais et tu le sais. Tu ne fais que parader et te vanter, mais dans un vrai combat, tu..._ " (You are _injured_ , I would end you and you know it. You're all about bragging and promising, but in a real fight you would...)

She cut him off, by landing a powerful punch in his face, before moving aside as he recovered quickly and tried to punch her too. Gasps were heard all around them, forcing him to stop his attempt. Jaws clenched tightly, he just stared at her, trying to bore holes in her head only by the force of his hatred.

" _Tu as de la chance que tous ces humains nous observent, sale monstre, parce que autrement, tu serais déjà morte_ " (You are lucky these humans are watching, bastard monster, otherwise you would already be dead), he scowled lowly, almost inaudible even for Niamh.

" _Tu ne fais que parader et te vanter, petit chiot, mais on sait tous les deux que dans un vrai combat, tu ne saurais même que tu es déjà mort_ " (You're all about bragging and promising, little puppy, but we both know that in a real fight, you wouldn't even know you were already dead), she bit back, quoting him.

He growled and tried to lunge at her again, but was held back by a policeman, called by the crowd around them. He shrugged the man's hand off his shoulder but didn't try to attack her anymore. She deciced to pick on him a bit more before joining the others inside.

" _Tu devais être reconnaissant. J'essaie de sauver ta misérable vie, tu sais ? Tu n'as rien remarqué ? Ce changement dans ton esprit ?_ " (You should be grateful. I'm trying to save your worthless life, here, you know ? Didn't you notice it ? The change in your mind ?) she whispered, half threatening and half worried.

It was so strange that the wolf stopped struggling. He just stared at her, frowning in incomprehension. When he was finally about to say something, his anger almost completely gone, Chloé and the others came back from Reiden.

"Niamh, we have to go. Something happened", the analyst declared, but then paused. She saw the man facing their youngest recruit, his facing already bruising, and looked like she was trying to figure out what happened. "Are you alright ?" she asked to the girl.

"I'm fine. Let's go", she replied, turning her back to the other metamorph, ignoring him.

" _Hé, attends ! Comment tu sais ? Comment t'es au courant ?_ " (Hey, wait ! How do you know ?) the man asked, following her.

The policeman looked like he was a bit lost, not understanding what was happening there, the crowd was staring at them, and Niamh only wanted to get in the car and drive away. The metamorph grabbed her arm again, but not with hostility this time. He looked worried.

" _Comment tu sais ?_ " (How do you know ?) he asked again, more softly. " _Tu le ressens aussi ?_ " (You felt it too ?)

She nodded gently, her anger and aggressivity gone as well.

" _Fais passer le mot à ta meute. Il est dangereux de se transformer. Quelque chose affecte les animaux, et corrompt nos esprits aussi. Rester sous forme humaine est la seule solution pour préserver notre espèce_ " (Tell your pack about this. It's dangerous to shift. Something affects the animals and corrupts our minds too. Staying human is the only way to protect our species), she murmured to him. " _Même si j'imagine que ton alpha refusera d'écouter ma suggestion..._ " (Even if I think your alpha would never follow my advice), she added with mixed bitterness and sarcasm.

" _Nous avons déjà perdu cinq des nôtres. Deux ont perdu l'esprit et attaqué leurs familles... Nous suivrons ton conseil_ " (We already lost five people. Two lost their minds and attacked their families... We will do as you say), the man responded quietly.

When winter comes, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives, huh ? Even if the different packs wanted her dead because of her being a hybrid, when they all faced the same danger, they faced it together. They had a common ennemy, they couldn't fight inside battles. The wolf slightly lowered his head, still staring into Niamh's eyes. She did so as well, and connected their foreheads, a hand on each other's shoulder, in their ritual acknowledgement of one another's respect. Eventually, she disengaged herself and nodded at the other wolf, bidding him goodbye. He turned on his heels and resumed to his own business.

The crowd was still watching her weirdly, as well as her friends and the policeman were. They didn't understand a word of what she told the man, except Chloé for obvious reasons of language, and only got that she punched him, and then hugged him. She gestured them towards the car and refused to answer until they were inside.

"Who was it ?" Jackson blurted out the second they were locked in the car.

"It was another wolf, right ?" Chloé guessed.

"Yes."

"What ?!" Jamie squealed, causing Niamh to hiss in pain for her hyper sensitive ears. "Like you ? A... a werewolf ?"

"A purebred werewolf, yeah. He recognized me in the crowd and he came to confront me. I feared that I would catch the eye of this pack if I went outside. Well... I did", she stated matter-of-factly.

"What did he want with you ?" the reported worried. "I saw the bruise on his face, did he try to hurt you ?"

"He only threatened me, so I punched him. Then he wanted to retaliate, but I was faster than him, and there was two many people around. He couldn't risk to reveal the Secret."

"How did you convince him to calm down ? We saw the end of the confrontation from the entrance of Reiden's. He seemed ready to gut you alive, and then he just... calmed down", Jackson asked her.

"She told him about our research. Or at least, she told him about this... drive... she has when she turns. He understood they weren't alone, that it wasn't an isolated event", Chloé explained slowly, also replacing the chronology in her mind.

"Yeah. Well, enough talking about me. When you showed up you told me that something had happened. What was it ?"

Chloé blanched and started the engine, suddenly remembering why they needed to move quickly. She started to drive as fast as she could, considering the speed limits and the people crowding the capital.

* * *

 **AN : Ok, so I managed to write chapters 11 and 12 this week, so I'll release the next one soon. Currently writing chapter 13, but don't get your hopes high (if you still have)**

 **Anyway, I'll never thank enough the people who read this first attempt of a fanfiction in a foreign language (I almost hit a thousand views omg o.o). Feel free to leave reviews to help me improve myself :)**


	12. Chapter 12 : Tracking the loose bears

**CHAPTER 12**

After a twenty minute-long drive, Chloé stopped and let Jamie out as she requested, before taking off again, this time heading towards the exit of the city. The bear had woken up and ran away from the lab. Jamie was worrying for the vet, whom they left alone in the lab with the bear.

"You injected it with _what_ ?" Jackson said incredulously in the phone.

"A microchip, with an RFID tracker", Mitch replied with slight annoyance, his voice rising from the speaker.

"What ? Why do you have a microchip with an RFID tracker ?"

"In case anyone had any plans to release it back into the wild. How about this ?" Mitch taunted proudly. "Don't ask questions, just be grateful."

"Okay, where is he now ?" Jackson admitted, concentrating again on the matter at hand.

"Same as five minutes ago, he's running through the woods, alongside the highway. It looks like he's headed towards the, uh... Meudon Forest..." the vet said hesitantly, and badly pronouncing the name.

"The Meudon Forest ?" Chloé repeated, correcting his pronounciation and also seeming disbelieving : why would the bear go there ?

"Yeah, that's what I said", Mitch grumbled, slightly vexed.

"The Meudon Forest is south, but according to the people from the bio-lab, that bear lived west, in les Hauts-de-Seine", Chloé explained.

"He must be going back to the others", Niamh suggested. "I'm not sure whether bears are as much pack animals as wolves are, but if they used to live together, that's where he would go now. After all, the lions were cooperating too and it also was rather out of character."

"Listen, you know how we talked about the bears changing ?" Mitch suddenly said, as if he was scared they would hang up the phone. "Well, I think they've developed some kind of endoskeleton", he announced, souding pretty much annoyed by how crazy this idea sounded.

" _What_ ?" Niamh blurted out before she could stop herself. "I can't decide whether it's super cool or super bad. I mean, an endoskeleton ? That rocks ! But on the other hand, I guess it means that the bears, that are already dangerous animals, are now even more difficult to take down. Crap."

"So much for the butter-bears I guess, right ?" Jackson joked, the others looking at him like he went crazy, except for Niamh, who understood the reference and smiled at him.

On the back row, with Niamh, Abraham was looking at his phone, browsing for information about the Meudon Forest and the bear.

"The wildlife services and the police are waiting for us on the other side of the Meudon", he said to Chloé and Jackson.

Jackson left the phone on speaker, even though they remained silent, and so they could faintly hear Mitch friendly arguing with Jamie, who seemed to have just arrived at the lab. A few minutes later, they were in sight of the Forest.

"Okay. We're at the Forest, Mitch, northwest corner", Jackson announced when they went to park the car somewhere. "Where's the bear ?"

"In the west, due west of you. Looks like about... 500 yards in. It looks like Park Services are already here", Mitch said quietly before hanging up the phone.

When Chloé pulled the car over and stopped the engine, Niamh immediately jumped out of it eagerly. She closed her eyes and deeply inhaled the fresh air of the woods. It smelled a lot like humans around here, for obvious reasons, but she could easily forget it and focus on the smell of grass, trees, wet soil and little rodents. A childish smile stretched her lips without her noticing it consciously.

"Niamh, you should stay in the car, just in case, it could be dangerous", Chloé tried to command her.

"Nope. I come with you, end of discussion. You could still need me", the girl countered swiftly.

Two shots were fired, further on the path, and Niamh growled instantly, rounding her back in unspoken menace. She did her best to calm herself and school her features into a bored mask, and then followed Chloé, Jackson and Abraham. They walked a few minutes and met the wildlife services scurrying around the bear they had shot. Pricking up her ears, Niamh heard his heart beat slowly and his steady breath going in and out. She sighed in relief and focused on the matter at hand. A brown-haired man was now standing before them, looking like he was in charge of the situation.

"So, is one of you going to tell me what is going on here ?" he said with a strong accent, almost commanding.

Immediately, Niamh bristled at his behavior but managed to suppress her growl. She focused on the smells, thinking only about finding something useful. The wind was carrying different odours, but one was stronger than the others. She snorted, surprising the man, who glared at her, looking slightly offended by her reaction.

"What do you mean ?" Chloé asked for clarification.

"The bear has some kind of superthick skin", he explained, showing the bear sleeping behind him in his cage. "It took three tranquilizer darts to bring it down. Is this some kind of next-gen weapon that your agency is experimenting with ?" he all but accused the blonde analyst.

While she retorted something sounding rather annoyed, Niamh followed Jackson in the woods, dragging him by his sleeve away from indiscreet ears.

"I smelled something. When we got closer to the bear. I think we may find something in the undergrowth. Something dead. You help me ?"

"Yeah, of course", the zoologist agreed softly, before looking down and beginning to search the place.

They combed the area, the smell becoming stronger and stronger with each step. And eventually, they found him. A guy from Park services, probably. Judging by the state of the body and the smell, he died long ago. Niamh frowned and covered her nose and mouth. Jackson raised his voice and called for the others to come and see. In a matter of seconds, the three others were here, and Abe leaned on the dead guy to check his pulse.

"He's dead", she stated coldly.

" _Elle ne devrait pas rester ici, Chloé, elle est trop jeune pour ça_ " (She shouldn't be here, Chloé, she's too young to see this), the man said, seemingly more shocked by the sight than any of them was.

"Elle _est plus solide que ce que vous croyez_ " ( _She_ is tougher than you think), Niamh growled at him.

"He's ice cold, he's been dead for at least a few days", Abe said for everyone to know.

Jackson was already following a trail, leaving the others behind if they didn't come with him. Niamh walked beside him, trying to understand how he did to track the bears. She mostly used her sense of smell and hearing when she hunted, she rarely looked for visual traces. He looked for broken twigs, flattened grass, prints in dirt, and hair. He showed her a few clues that the bear went this way and let her find the next hints of his passage. She was excited like a five-year-old when she found something and Jackson confirmed it was an actual lead.

Eventually, they stopped when they exited the woods and faced the ruins of an ancient fort. There was no tree around it, only a vast grassy plain.

"What is this place ?" Jackson asked curiously.

"It's Fort de Châtillon, it was built in the 1870's, from the Prussian War. They tore most of it down forty years ago", their new companion replied.

"Oh, by the way, you weren't introduced", Chloé said. "Niamh, this is Jean-Michel. Jean-Michel, this is Niamh, she is... let's just say she's an intern."

Niamh acknowledged the man by nodding, but didn't show any more warmth towards him. She didn't trust him, the same way she didn't trust the others when she first met them. He wasn't her friend. They neared the ruins and stopped once again, the zoologist crouching down on another clue.

"What is it, _rafiki_ ?" Abe asked to his friend.

"Bear scat. Multiple tracks. Must be three of them", the zoologist replied as he got up and continued walking towards the Fort.

"Three bears... Do you think we'll have enough darts to tranquilize them all ?" she whispered to him as she walked beside him.

"Chloé, Abe and I have guns, there are three bears. I think we can do it. And we are not going there to fight them, only to make sure they are all here", he reassured her.

"Niamh, are you sure you don't want to stay in the car ? With your arm, you would be in danger", Chloé suggested worrily.

"No, I'm fine. I won't be a burden to you, though. And as the other bastard said when I first met Abraham and Jackson, of all of us, I'm the least in danger ."

A half-smile etched on Chloé's lips as worry still painted her face. They walked down the yard inside the ruins, passing by multiple metal gates eaten up by rust, sometimes almost falling into dust. Jackson lead the way, the metamorph just behind him, until he pointed his finger at another gate, pierced by a hole.

"Look at this. Does that hole look big enough for a bear to get in ?" he said to Abe, walking a few steps behind him.

They stopped near the entrance, picking the tranquilizer guns from their backpacks and got ready to enter. Jean-Michel didn't look thrilled at the idea and made it clear.

" _Attends, et si y'avait des ours ?_ " (Wait. If those bears are in there...) he kind of panicked.

"Huh ? _T'as raison, reste là, c'est... c'est trop dangereux pour toi. C'est trop dangereux. De toutes façons, si tu devais te faire attaquer par un ours, je crois que je serais du côté de l'ours_ " (You don't have to do this. You're right, it's dangerous. But more importantly : if you were to come under attack by bears, I would be rooting for the bears), Chloé verbally stabbed him and Niamh then knew there was something between the two that went wrong.

"Boom ! She just destroyed you", she snickered in a low voice before approaching Chloé, hand raised. "Hey Chloé, I know it's childish, but what about a highfive for that monstuous fatality you just hit him with ?"

The analyst just looked back at her, trying to look serious and mature, but still unable to hide the amused hint of a smile from rising the corner of her lips.

"Come on, highfive !"

Surrendering to the total child in front of her, the blonde agent obeyed and highfived her, sighing, but also almost laughing.

"Yay", Niamh muttered as she followed suit to Jackson and Abraham into the ruins. "Childishness shall prevail !"

"Guys, I mapped this place for the city. It's a maze in there, you'll get lost", Jean-Michel warned them even though he looked rather upset by Niamh's snide comments. "Do you have a gun for me ?" he asked nonetheless when everyone got inside the fort.

"No", was Chloé's annoyed answer, and he decided to quicken his pace to catch up with them.

There definitely was something off with these two, Niamh thought, but she didn't have time to investigate it right now. They were progressing slowly, extremely carefully, worried and afraid that a bear could jump at them at any moment. Water was dripping from the stone ceiling with an upsetting and repeatitive sound. Everyone was just extremely tense and jumpy, and those who had guns were clutching at them in stress. Unconsciously, even if she was technically unarmed, Niamh walked faster to come next to Abraham at the forefront. Though she was injured, falling back wasn't in her nature. On her left, Abraham was softly humming a song, causing Jackson to turn at him, making a strange face.

"Really ?"

"What ? It comforts me", the giant justified himself.

It was indeed a scary mission, entering the den of three mutated bears with only tranquilizers. He was forgiven, in Niamh's opinion.

"Come on, big guy. I'm sure it will be over quickly. In and out, noone notices", Niamh whispered, worried about not drawing attention on them.

They walked for a few more minutes before she made them all stop by raising her hand. They looked at her with curiosity and fear, but with respect. They trusted her instincts, now. She closed her eyes, wanting to be sure she heard correctly, and focused on her hearing. A low sound was rumbling through the corridors, one she identified as snoring. She remained silent and perfectly still for a whole minute, and then opened her eyes again and turned to the others.

"They're asleep. I counted two breathings. They must be thirty meters further, after a few rooms", she announced quietly.

"How would you know that ?" Jean-Michel protested in a high-pitched whisper of incomprehension.

"Spider-sense", she snapped back swiftly. "Make no noise and we should be able to find the third without an issue", she warned them.

They all nodded and started towards the bears. Eurasian bears weren't the biggest kind of bears in the world, 'only' one meter at the withers, but they were nonetheless great predators, very powerful and capable of extreme violence. Having to walk between two, even asleep, was proving to be emotionnally difficult for them. Chloé wiped her forehead of cold sweat, Jean-Michel was obviously trying to stick to them the most that was possible without stepping on their feet, and even Jackson and Abraham, though used to lions and rhinoceros, weren't feeling easy.

"There's no signal. I can't call this in", Chloé whispered, looking at her phone screen.

When they tiptoed next to the bears, Abe and Niamh triggered their reaction to a hostile predator, making them snore louder and slightly move in their sleep. They glanced at each other and quickened their pace to get as far as possible from them, to make sure they didn't wake up. The bears growled lazily nonetheless, scaring the newest addition to their group.

"Don't worry, they're just sensing Abe and I are dangerous. They won't wake up, though", she stated casually, taking a sadistic joy in seeing their new companion panic a little.

They continued to walk quietly until they reached one last room, their shoes slipping and making wet noises in the mud. It made their progression slower and louder, but they eventually managed to make it to the third bear. He was fast asleep and snoring, just like the others. Niamh was highly tempted to get closer and touch his fur, sense if he already had this endoskeleton Mitch talked about, but she knew better. If she could make the bears shift in their sleep just by her presence, she didn't want to know what herself touching one would do. Especially now she was injured and accompanied by four other persons.

"Okay, guys. That's three. Can we now and alert Wildlife Services ?" Jean-Michel pleaded in a nervous voice.

"Let's go", confirmed Chloé, as they slowly turned back.

The brown-haired man took the lead, walking quickly as if to escape this place as fast as possible. Niamh scoffed at his ways and cast a glance full of contempt to Abe, who just scolded her by his look. He was too nice and kind to let her be mean to the poor man without showing his disapproval. She sighed and sent him an apologetic look in response, which brought back a smile on his face as they kept walking. Behind them, she could hear Chloé telling stories about how she was the one to kill the spiders when she lived with him to Jackson.

"Spiders, okay, you're right. But come on, Chloé, those are mutated bears, you can't blame him this time if he's scared out of his mind", she defended the man before realizing she was precisely mocking his weakness only seconds earlier. And then it hit her. "Wait, you were living together ?"

Chloé sighed and avoided her eyes for a moment, but answered anyway.

"He was my fiancé. We broke up."

She was harsh on her words, sounding like she didn't want to talk about it, and Niamh got the message. She nodded with a comprehensive smile and returned back to her silent walk beside Abraham. Noone talked anymore until they arrived in a room which Abe stopped in. He was frowning, as if looking for something.

"What is it ?" Jackson asked his friend when he got past him and saw he wouldn't move.

"This is where the bears were sleeping..." Niamh spoke out, figuring out what was bothering Abraham at this moment. "Their smell is still strong here, but they're gone.

"Okay. Let's get out of here, come on", Jackson hurried them with concern.

As they were all about to leave for the corridor, a powerful roar echoed through the whole ruin, making everyone jump on their feet in fear. Niamh's heart missed a beat, before accelerating to twice its normal rhythm. Adrenaline whipped through her veins like a wild horse, turning her eyes gold immediately, before she could calm herself down a little. She contained the eager shaking of her hands and took a fighting stance, mobile on her legs and ready to bolt into danger.

"Just stand your ground. All right ? Don't- Don't run away, but don't let it think you're a threat", Jackson ordered them.

The bear grunted louder, taking a few steps towards them, baring his yellowish fangs at them.

"He already knows we're a threat..." Niamh hissed, rounding her back to seem bigger and lowly growling at the animal.

And then all she knows is that Jean-Michel was running away, calling for help. Niamh let out a really offensive curse at him as Chloé was shouting him not to.

 _Well, so much for the 'I'll be rooting for the bears' part, I guess_... she thought aside, completely disconnected of the moment.

"The other bears. We gotta stop him", Jackson said to Chloé, and they both headed towards where the other man went.

Abe and Niamh stayed and faced the bear. He grabbed his dart gun and aimed at the beast, that was running at them, then shot. The first tranquilizer dart went swiflty into his skin, but it didn't slow him down. Niamh pushed Abraham aside, barely controlling her strength, her only concern being putting her friend out of danger, out of the bear's trajectory. He tripped when she pushed him, but didn't try to stand up again, focusing on reloading his gun.

Meanwhile, the girl was growling at the bear, her eyes shining with menace and danger, keeping the beast's attention drawn on her. It was like she hypnotized it. Adrenaline flowing though her whole body, she didn't feel the pain in her shoulder anymore, allowing her to dodge expertly the paw the bear flung at her. She jumped backwards, landing with perfect balance and emitted a challenging growl that infuriated the bear even more. Her reflexes were so sharp she managed to avoid the next attack as well as the dart that flew dangerously near her waist before planting itself in the bear.

"Hey, _that_ was close, Abe !" she protested.

"Sorry, you moved in the last moment", he retorted distractedly, too focused on his reloading and aiming to put much intonation in his voice.

The bear, extremely angry now, though the tranquilizer was starting to affect him, stood on his hind legs and tried to smash her with one powerful blow she only avoided because she did the last thing he could expect : she rushed at him and toppled him to the ground, surprising him. He groaned in incomprehension as she bared her teeth at him, clenching her fist and ready to punch him in the snout.

A third dart was shot in his leg, and the bear eventually stopped moving, sent sleeping again by the breathing still uneven and fast, Niamh was trying to refrain herself from completely letting loose of her control on herself. Sitting on the bear's belly, she was heaving, her chest raising and falling down as she did her best to school her respiration. Carefully, Abe approached her, his gun still ready to shoot, in case she was still running on adrenaline.

"Niamh ?" it was Jackson's voice. She turned to him and stared at him blankly. "Are you okay ?"

"Yeah... I-I think so..." she nodded.

Still sitting on the bear, she could feel under her hands the hard shell, the endoskeleton Mitch mentionned. She slowly got up, nearly loosing her balance, and joined the others. On the way back to where they left the Wildlife Services, she finished to process the adrenaline in her system and began to feel her shoulder again. She immediately cursed herself for being so stupid, but it was too late. She must have groaned a bit too loudly, because the others looked at her, and saw the red stain on her t-shirt, right where her stitches were.

"Oh my God, Niamh, did the bear harm you ?" Chloé worried as she took a closer look to her injury.

"No, it's just... I think the stitches broke. I'll have Mitch redo them once we're back", she casually dismissed her concern.

She reached for her bottle of pills in her bag and swallowed a pair of them. That should ease the pain until they got near the vet. When they arrived at the place they left the Park Services at, an ambulance was there, and the cage with the bear was gone. They handed Jean-Michel to the medics and when they saw her bleeding, they tried to heal her too. One of them almost lost a finger in the operation and so the rest of them decided it best not to risk theirs and left her alone.

"You know, maybe you should have let them redo your bandage at least", Jackson suggested.

"Too risky", she flatly answered, eyes closed as she let the painkillers slowly take her pain away.

" _Je le mérite peut-être pas, mais en tout cas, merci de m'avoir sauvé la vie_ " (I know I don't deserve it, but... Thank you. You saved my life), she heard Jean-Michel say from afar, her senses less controlled now that she was on medicine.

" _Moi oui, mais pas toi_ " (Of course I did)", Chloé responded, sitting next to her ex-fiancé. " _Je peux te demander un service ?_ " (Would you do me a favor ?)

" _Ouais._ " (Yeah)

" _Comporte-toi bien avec ma soeur_ " (Be good to my sister) " _Pas comme avec moi_ " (Better than you were to me), Chloé requested softly.

Niamh reopened her eyes and took a deep breath, frowning in compassion and hurt. She just understood why Chloé didn't want to talk about her ex-fiancé, and why she could feel the tension between the two. She could understand the betrayal their leader would have felt when she discovered her sister and her fiancé were dating. She couldn't feel what it felt like to lose a lover because she never had anyone that meaningful to her, but she could understand betrayal and grief.

"Do you know what she's saying to him ?" Jackson wondered as they looked away in decency when the analyst hugged her ex-fiancé.

"Yes. It's personnal, I shouldn't be listening in", she replied reluctantly, feeling like she saw something really private.

"Then don't", Abe gently said with a comprehensive smile.

"I don't. Not on purpose at least. I heard it, but I didn't try to. My senses don't ask for permmission when I take these pills... I'll keep what I heard secret, though. It's her choice whether to tell us or not."

Chloé let go of Jean-Michel and went back to them. All four of them then headed towards their car and drove silently to the animal lab. Once arrived there, they found Mitch and Jamie looking at papers that looked like the tests results. Mitch raised his head to beckon them to come closer and take a look at it, but instead noticed the red wetness on Niamh's shoulder.

"You can't be serious ! What did you do ?" he sighed upsetly as he grabbed her by the arm and forced her to sit on the nearest chair.

"Bears. They woke up, we had to tranquilize them. I operated as a diversion so Abe could shoot the bear."

"You fought a bear ? God dammit, you're fucking crazy ?"

"Look, I'm fine, the bears were sedated, everything's okay. I just... accidentally broke the stitches when I dodged his attacks", she mumbled while he pushed the clothing on her shoulder to have better access to the bandage and then sighed.

"I can't see anything, take the sling and your shirt off", he mumbled, looking away.

"What ? Mitch, you can't just..." Jamie protested.

"It's okay. He needs to see my shoulder, and being clothed doesn't make it easy", Niamh retorted as she carefully removed the sling, and then her blood stained t-shirt.

Mitch hissed when he looked under the bandage and gave her a light hit on the back of her head.

"Stupid."

"Hey ! Don't you dare hit me !"

"You _completely_ blew your stitches, and the edges of the wound look like minced meat", he scolded her. "Well, at least, it stopped bleeding, but you can't just fight a bear like it's nothing at all. You need to rest."

"Yeah, and the animal Apocalypse can wait", she snidely snapped back. "Just... Just stitch it again and put a nice Hello Kitty bandaid, will you ?" she spat angrily.

"You know what ? This time I do it, but if you fight another bear and you need me to redo your stitches and bandage, you can go see another vet", he groaned dryly.

He quickly sewed the wound, not taking any precautions so Niamh winced a lot more than usual when the needle went through her skin. His revenge for her poor behavior, she thought. When he was done, he bandaged her shoulder again, but couldn't find a Hello Kitty bandaid to piss her off. He washed his hands while she put her shirt back on and then gathered everyone around the computer he projected the results on.

"So, this is the DNA profile of our bear from the lab. And this is the same bear's DNA six years ago, when he was first tagged", he showed them, his previous annoyment still slightly audible.

There was a difference between the two. A yellow spot that appeared on the second DNA and not on the first. Niamh frowned. If she remembered well her science classes, this was an additionnal gene that wasn't supposed to be here. It just... popped out of nowhere.

"It changed. Because of the Mother Cell", Jamie asserted.

"Uh, yes and no", Mitch nuanced.

"What does that mean ?" Jackson asked, looking a bit lost by this discovery.

"Okay, think of it this way. None of the earth's creatures are born perfect. Right ? We all have genetic anomalies. Be it a birthmark, double-jointed wrists, webbed toes... but the anomalies that become the norm are the... the ones that are adaptive. That are more useful to survival, like opposable thumbs", he explained, moving his thumbs as an illustration.

"What does it have to do with animals ?" Chloé wondered, frowning in incomprehension.

"I would say we are facing a wave of adaptive anomalies in the animal kingdom. Maybe triggered by the Mother Cell, since it began recently and all at the same time. The bears now have a superthick skin, the bats fly higher, the lions are telepathic or something..." Niamh hesitantly trailed off.

"They all make their species more capable of survival. Stronger, better", Jackson confirmed.

"And what I think... Just like our ancestors developed opposable thumbs, I think the Mother Cell is just accelerating these mutations", Mitch said reluctantly, siding with the metamorph despite their argument. "I think we would see them occur naturally, but not for another... several generations. Maybe a couple hundred of years from now, depending on how long it takes us to screw up the planet", he grumbled moodily.

"But we're seeing it now because of the Mother Cell", Jamie insisted, adamant on blaming Reiden.

"But here's the good news...", Mitch began.

"If the Mother Cell can make a naturally occurring situation worse, maybe it can do the opposite", Jackson said immediately, understanding quickly what the vet's idea was.

"Correct", Mitch approved, before going back to the computer, browsing the files and looking for something.

"Yeah, Hartley tried that, injecting that shit in his eye. Didn't turn out well, did it ?" Niamh scoffed.

"Maybe we can find a way to transform the Mother Cell into something that will actually work. Hartley tried to inject it pure, but if we can find a formula to adapt it, maybe... I don't know..." Jackson sighed as he passed a hand through his hair almost in desperation.

Mitch then displayed another diagram on the computer screen, apparently he found was he was looking for.

"And this, is _your_ DNA, Niamh", he simply stated, showing her the top quarter of the screen. "Then going down, is human, wolf and bear."

She simply stared at it blankly, incapable of speaking or doing anything but to gaze at the screen. The first DNA diagram, her DNA, was strangely akin to the others, but only on the central structure. There is a common knowledge that all DNAs are the same to a certain point, they all have the same base, and then it's a matter of last common ancestor. Chimps shared 98% of their genome with humans, mice shared 90% and flies shared 60%. She looked like a human, so she expected to be something like 97-98% like them. But it appeared she was more likely to be only 80% of her DNA that matched with the human's. And the wolf and bear parts didn't match at all. It was like her DNA wasn't that of a wolf, not even partially. It was something completely different.

"It... doesn't match", Chloé flatly noticed, brows raised in surprise.

"No, it definitely doesn't", the vet sighed quietly.

Niamh's breath was uneven, shallow, as she watched the very proof that she was different. Tears of wonder and amazement were welling in her eyes without her perfectly knowing why. It was like meeting a long dead ancestor and finding out you were so close to each other. She looked at it longly, looking for something even more unusual than her abnormal DNA, and eventually found something. She remembered seeing it on their bear's DNA, the yellow anomaly. Except this time, as they didn't have another DNA sample to compare, it didn't stand out as much. She pointed it with her finger and turned to Mitch, looking quite unsure and even afraid.

"Is that... ?" she trailed off, her voice croaky.

"Yeah. It's the new gene that appeared in the bear's DNA as well. Or at least, it appeared in the same place on yours", he explained soflty, almost with compassion, his exasperation at her suddenly gone.

She blinked multiple times, feeling lightheaded, and sat on the nearest chair before falling. Her legs felt weak and her breathing seemed unable to pump enough oxygen into her lungs.

"So what ? That means she will develop a superthick skin too ?" Jamie asked, a bit lost.

"I don't know. This is just the DNA map, not the detail of every gene. This could merely be the location of all mutated genes the animals develop, and not especially the superthick skin gene. It could be anything", Mitch answered gently.

"Please, be a butter-bear gene", Niamh weakly joked, still emotionally shaken.

"Okay, time out, can anyone explain what is this 'butter-bear' thing ?" Chloé interrupted them, raising her hands in a stop motion.

Mitch couldn't muffle a nervous laughter, quickly followed by Jackson and Niamh, which triggered Jamie's laugh as well, though she didn't really know why, she was just empathetic.

"When Mitch said that the bear was hibernating, back at your place, he said it could be because he was changing. I joked about the fact that after telepathic lions and angry wolves, if would be cool to have a butter-bear. A big teddy bear with nice and shiny butterfly wings."

"Now that is... unexpected", Chloé said slowly and with surprise.

"So anyway, it means that I was indeed affected by the Mother Cell. Great", Niamh blurted out suddenly. "And if I am infected, it's more than probable that the rest of the metamorphs are infected too. The wolf I met in front of Reiden's offices said his pack was sick. Two people turned bad and killed three others. They had to put them down."

"Wait, a _wolf_ ?" Mitch repeated incredulously.

"Yes, a werewolf. He tried to threaten me, but I managed to cool down the situation", she casually dismissed his concern.

"Actually, she punched him in the face", Jamie whispered to the vet with an amused look.

" _Anyway_ ", Niamh said a bit louder, not willing to talk about this event furthermore. "Do you think it could be possible to adapt the formula of the Mother Cell to reverse the mutation ?"

"Well I'm a veterinary pathologist, but sure I can invent a cure to the Apocalypse, just give me a minute", he sassed sarcastically*.

"I'm sure you'll do well, Mitch", Jamie reassured him with good humor.

He sighed deeply, but couldn't do anything more about the situation. He transferred the results of the DNA tests on a flashdrive, deleted them from the computer with Jamie's help to make sure there was no trace of it left. They didn't want anyone to find Niamh's DNA by accident and discover the existence of the metamorphs. They also divided the work with Reiden's files between them all, and everyone got a fraction of the huge data they collected, to read and analyze. They spent the rest of the day at the lab, ordered food for a late lunch and studied the financial documents they stole from the company, startling everytime a lab tech entered to pick something in the storing drawers.

By the end on the day, they hadn't found anything, but they didn't lose hope. It was a huge amount of work, they couldn't have sorted it out on the first day. They saved their progression and decided to go back to Chloé's place to spend the night.

* * *

* If someone guesses the reference, well done :) I'd like to promise a more interesting prize but I don't know what u_u


	13. Chapter 13: 1-star review for the Wilson

**Thanks to all the people who favorited/followed the story inbetween two updates ! I know I'm slow to update, but when I get a notification it just makes my heart melt ! So thank you, and here's a long chapter :)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 13**

 _Paris, France._

Niamh stretched cautiously, careful not to strain her shoulder, and silently left Chloé's room in the morning. The analyst was still sleeping, and the others too. She was the first awake, and she was hungry. So she quietly stalked to the kitchen to pour herself a bowl of cereals. She sat on a stool in the kitchen, looking out the window at the city struggling to wake up. Buses were already driving in the streets, as well as several cars, but it had nothing to do with what it would look like in an hour or two. The cereal crunched under her teeth while she thought back to her DNA profile. Mitch said it didn't match the wolves' or the bears', and so she was just perplexed. She wasn't even that much human either. She considered trying to acquire a purebred werewolf's DNA to compare, but knew it would be a bad idea. The Île-de-France pack would just tear her apart, even if she gave them a good advice about the animal uprising.

She laboriously washed her bowl in the sink with one hand when she finished eating, and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, still being very discreet to not wake the others. They went through a rough day yesterday, they deserved some sleep. She then silently picked up her bag from Chloé's room and brought it to the kitchen, where she started searching it. Meeting the metamorph in front of Reiden's offices had reminded her of her pack, and what she had left of them. It wasn't much, she only kept a wooden box, sealed close so she wouldn't be tempted to look inside. But today, she was tempted. She had stayed alone for the past few years, but meeting a peer brought back memories.

She put the box on the kitchen table, and sat in front of it, staring. She was unconscioulsy opening and closing her fist, trying to alleviate the temptation, without much success. The longer she eyed the box, the worse it was to resist. She knew what was inside. She remembered it, but it wasn't the same thing as looking at these tokens of her past life for real.

"What is it ?"

She repressed a start. Jackson was standing in the doorway and pointed at the sealed box. She sighed and pulled the item close to her in a protective and almost territorial way.

"Memories. From my pack", she said quietly, not looking at him.

"You miss them", he stated, not even asking.

"Sometimes, yes. This is why I kept this. To be able to remember properly", she explained in a soft voice. "I stocked photos and little nothings I used to collect when I was a child. Every child likes to pick up pleasant looking rocks or nice sticks. I used to pick sticks. Small ones, barely the size of my finger. I would choose them because of the essence of wood. I collected every essence around our territory, but I lost the collection when I left. I only kept the birch stick... Because I like its color, and because in Celt tradition, it's supposed to help the deceased to a new life. It reminds me of my mother. In another culture, I heard it represents duality, and since I'm a hybrid, I guess it can apply to me as well."

"I don't have very good memories of my father", Jackson started to say without looking at her, opening up a little on his personal experience. "When I was a child, he would take me camping and we would track foxes and deers for days, just to catch a glimpse of them. But then, he began to act crazy. He would lock us inside a motel for days, repeated the same sentences again and again. But if I rack my brain, I can still find one or two good memories."

Niamh stuffed the box back in her bag, the temptation gone. Her pack wolf heart was pushing her towards Jackson, to ease his obvious pain. She could practically hear his heart aching and bleeding retrospectively. She remained seated.

"One day... One day I'll open it. And I'll look at the photos, and hope not to destroy myself doing so", she promised to herself, while knowing she would probably break this promise. She knew the wound would always be there and wouldn't heal enough to let her open the memory box.

"So, I guess today will be filled with paper reading, right ?" Jackson rhetorically asked her in a clumsy attempt to change of subject.

"Probably", she replied, aware of what he was doing but content with it. "I really hope we find something, I'd hate it if Reiden covered their tracks so well we couldn't track the payments to Shafer... It sucks being on the run. Always having to take precautions, taking care of who you talk to, not trusting anyone... Jamie shouldn't have to deal with that because of that bastard dirty agent. She saved my life, the least I can do is protect her and give her freedom", Niamh thought out loud.

" _That_ was very sweet", the reporter's voice sounded behind them both, making them turn their head.

Jamie was standing next to Abraham, obviously eavesdropping and not wanting to interrupt. Niamh cursed herself inwardly for not listening to the noises around her and missing not only Jackson's arrival, but then Jamie and Abe's.

"Ugh, can't believe I didn't hear you guys..." she groaned. "Maybe I'm still high..."

"Yesterday you said your pills loosened your control over your senses, so you should have heard them, not the opposite", Jackson taunted her with a corner smile.

She gave a death rattle of annoyance and buried her face in her crossed arms on the table. While the others were getting breakfast, she picked her book from her bag and started reading. The last time she opened it, it was in their hotel room, in Mobile, before they found out Shafer was a liar. Well, she had realized that before, but then he proved it by killing the optometrist and trying to steal the Mother Cell. The precious crystal was now safely kept by their veterinary, until they found something useful to do with it.

She watched them eat their breakfast and chat idly whereas she settled for reading her book again. Chloé still wasn't awake, and neither was Mitch.

"Niamh, you really think we won't find anything about Shafer ?" Jamie's voice woke her from her reading.

"I fear it. If they managed to keep so many things secret, they very well could be able to hide their finances and any payment Shafer received. I hope we find something, but I'd rather not get my hopes up."

"You said things about being on the run, earlier..." Abraham said quietly, a softness in his eyes she recognized as friendship.

"I've been on the run, remember. Shit, I technically still am. Noone cancelled the banishment I'm subjected to. If I ever step in a pack's territory, they are legally allowed to kill me."

"I'm not sure killing people is legal, Niamh", Jamie tried to joke to lighten the atmosphere.

"Not by human laws, no. But who cares about human laws when they don't even know you exist and what you do ? Human laws apply to humans, and we discovered we weren't even close to being humans", the girl replied, trying (poorly) to distance herself from her companions and to lower their empathy.

"That does not mean you are barbarians ! We are in 2015, not in the Middle Ages, dammit !" the reporter flared up, barely able not to yell and wake the others.

"What do you want me to say ? That I think it should be changed ? That I will fight them myself ?", Niamh bit out, too agressively for her own taste. "I can't. I hate being separated from my pack, but I can't fight the whole system all by myself", she added in a softer voice. "They are tens of thousands across the world, and they all agreed to follow the same rules. It's already something you humans can't do. They managed to create a set of fundamental laws, and one of them is that a pack can't change a kill order or a banishment emitted by another. They can only accept it. If they didn't, it would cause riots and wars between the different clans and packs, sending us back to the Dark Ages. I don't like the rules, but I don't make them, and since I'm an outcast, I never will."

"That sucks."

"Oh, you're all up. Great."

They all turned in the direction of the new voice and faced Chloé, already clothed and her hair neatly done, almost as if she was ready to go in an instant.

"I just got a message from Delavane. Apparently, we have a new situation. We have to go back to America. Two weeks ago, a cargo ship left Oslo, Norway, and sailed to Portland, Maine. The crew reported an unusually high rat population, and in forty-eight hours, they were literally swarmed. The ship went adrift, and was seen near Pender Island, where a local fisherman swore he saw thousands of rats swimming for the coast. The local authorities found the bodies of the crew in a terrible condition, as well as grain from a farm using Reiden pesticides among the cargo."

"Rats ? Seriously ?" Mitch moaned when he joined them in the kitchen, disheveled and obviously in a bad mood. "What's next ? Leeches ? Snakes ? Spiders ?"

"Well, I don't want to sound dramatic, but I think we'll get there anytime", Niamh retorted with anger. "I hate those things, I can't wait to be there..."

"You're afraid of spiders ? Snakes I can understand, but spiders ? Aren't you like... a bit too terrifying to be scared of spiders ?" Jackson wondered, leaning on the kitchen table, across from her.

"Do you even know how dangerous these little shits can be ?"

"Australian spiders are dangerous, I know, but the european ones usually are not", the zoologist argued convincingly.

"I had a bad experience."

"You wanna share that experience with us ?" Jackson prompted her.

" _I had a bad experience_ , I said", Niamh replied with a growl. "Can we focus on the rat problem now ?"

"Uh... yeah, sorry, you're right. So... We're heading back to the States, are we ?"

"Yeah. Delavane wants us to assess the situation and determine if a containment protocol will be necessary. He hopes it won't, but we can never be sure. He wants us to capture a male and a female for analysis too. He will stay here, though."

"So I guess we have to book tickets for a flight today. I hope we'll have enough money for this whole animal apocalypse thing, 'cause all these travels are becoming expensive", Mitch remarked with snark.

"Delavane funds us", Chloé assured as she grabbed a toast and spread jam on it.

"Yeah, sure, but even if it's not _our_ money, this job is getting expensive. Are we sure we'll be able to finish it ?"

"Let's just hope so. I would worry more about the animals killing us all rather than about the lack of money, if I were you, though", Abe said.

They then finished eating and packed their belongings, then headed to the airport and bought six tickets for the next flight. Either they were lucky or someone was watching over them from above, because there was a direct flight between Paris and Portland in the afternoon. They loaded their luggage with the others and climbed in the plane, once again lucky to sit next to each other. The flight would last about nine hours, and they were all trying to think of things to do to busy themselves or to sleep.

After starting dozing off, about three hours after they took off, the plane started to shake violently. Turbulences. Nothing dramatic, since neither the stewards nor the pilot made any announcement stating to buckle yourself up, or prepare for an emergency landing in the ocean, but they had a metamorph with kind of a low tolerance to pressure on board. The first tremor made Niamh jolt awake and grip her chair, color drained from her face. Abe, sitting next to her, tried to comfort her and reassure her that planes were by far the safest way to travel, and that they were very unlikely to crash. Still tense, her jaws clenched tightly, she wasn't able to sleep again, only to start growling lowly when the plane started to shake again, but more longly.

She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the low and steady voice of her friend on the seat next to her, her hands shaking and clasped on the armrests, her fingers digging in the stuffing in an attempt to calm herself down. She was so irrationaly scared that she didn't even notice she was also using her wounded arm. She felt her eyes tingling and her gums burn as she did her best to control her fear and the adrenaline her body was producing in response. It was in times like that that she cursed her hybrid DNA. If she had been 100% werewolf, she wouldn't face such problems.

Fortunately, the turbulences didn't last. Slowly, with Abe's quite frantic and apprehensive help, she managed to regain control over herself and they all could resume to their naps, though she could feel Jackson and Abe eyeing her carefully, as if they were still worried she would snap. To avoid this problem again, Niamh dug in her pockets for her painkillers, her shoulder now sore being another reason to gobble down a handful of them. She slipped into sleep in a matter of minutes, under the cautious gaze of the gentle giant in the seat next to her, wondering if she didn't overdose herself.

When they landed, it was still pitch black outside and they had to find a hotel quickly to store their stuff and get a couple hours of proper sleep before going to their next assignment. The second they got in their beds, they fell asleep and slept right through the night. They only woke up late in the morning and had to rush to find a ferry to sail to the island. Mitch accompanied them to the docks, and remained behind the group with Jamie.

Niamh was already on the boat, almost jumping in happiness and excitement, and every member of the group could see the dog part of her, in the way she could practically be wagging her animal tail in joy. Jackson, Chloé and Abraham joined her, looking at her with a grin, amused by her antics.

"So... you don't like planes, but you're okay with boats ?" Jackson asked when they all walked to the front of the ferry.

"Yeah. I can swim. And I can't fly", the metamorph replied as if it was an appropriate answer.

"It's the ocean, Niamh."

"I can still swim", she persisted obstinately. "And I love sailing. I love the feeling of the sea moving under the ship, I love the noise of the waves, I love the salty smell of the sea, I love the sensation of the wind blowing through my hair. I just _love_ sailing", she then explained with a huge goofy grin.

Jamie joined them a minute later, and another few minutes later, the ferry left the docks. The group was standing at the front of the ship, talking about their mission on the island.

"How did a few rats become thousands on the course of a trip across the Atlantic ?" Jamie asked.

"Well, if Mitch is right, and the Mother Cell is an accelerant, it may be by being exposed to it in a contained environment, it accelerated the reproductive nature of the rats", Jackson said, arms crossed and leaning on the guard-rail behind him.

"Or we could be seeing it in the rats first, because they have a short gestation period", Abraham suggested. "What if this is just the beginning ?"

"We could face a massive population explosion in the entire animal kingdom..."

Niamh reflected back on the animals they already faced. Angry wolves, man-slaughtering dogs, telepathic lions, armored bears... And then she imagined if they were to suddenly increase their population. Would it affect the metamorphs too ? If the population of shapeshifters boomed, the Secret would definitely be out, and considering the madness that afflicted them when they transformed, the humans would also try to hunt them down as much as the other animals.

"A swarm of rats is one thing, a swarm of lions, tigers, alligators..." Abe enumerated, worry tainting his low voice.

"How would we even begin to fight back against something like that ?" Jamie protested against their future task almost desperately.

"We probably couldn't", Niamh deadpanned. "Unless we nuked them all, and hid in bunkers for the next millenia until the radiation is low enough to not kill us", she added with caustic humor.

The others glared at her, as if her comment would jinx them and bring the apocalypse sooner than expected. Jackson discarded her remark with a gesture of his hand, and spoke again.

"Okay, first things first. We have to warn the people on Pender Island."

"I'm pretty sure they'd be aware", Jamie said sarcastically.

If thousands of rats swam to their coasts, and if they reproduces that fast, the locals should indeed have noticed something.

"Aside from the fisherman, no one has reported any rats at all", Chloé told them, contradicting the reporter's thoughts.

"None ?" Jamie insisted, while Chloé simply shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense."

"What does make sense since this whole thing began ? I mean, now we even have _werewolves_ , real ones. At this point, I think we can legitimately expect anything to happen", Abraham intervened calmly, though his face showed concern.

Niamh turned to the sea, looking straight at the island in the distance. The wind was blowing through her hair, bringing the salty smell of the sea to her nostrils. She really missed it. Even though they were heading to an island swarmed by blood thirsty rats, she was allowing herself to relax a bit.

"We need to capture a male and a female. It's the only way to see how the Mother Cell affects the reproductive behavior", Chloé reminded them of their mission

"So we're going on a rat hunt", Jamie stated while Jackson stared at the sea as if he was rethinking his life choices.

"What's the matter, Rafiki ?" Abe wondered.

"The men that died on that cargo were eaten by rats. It's been proven that rats that taste human blood begin to crave it", Jackson replied to his friends and told the others.

"Well... that's just awesome", the reporter groaned in annoyance and spite.

While Jackson and Abraham leaned on the rail, Chloé turned to Jamie and Niamh.

"Are you going to be okay ?" she wondered.

"Why wouldn't we ?" Jamie retorted, looking slightly offended.

"Because you shot someone, and we didn't really talk about it since then", Niamh whispered in answer, to avoid being overheard.

"And _you_ , were shot and fought bears. This is one of the rare calm moments we will have these times, so let's just enjoy it and take advantage of it to talk. How are you ?" Chloé insisted.

Jamie averted her eyes and sighed. Niamh could sense she hadn't completely come to terms with what she did.

"We don't have time for that. We need to focus on the matter at hand. These rats aren't going to be easy to deal with, we should think of a strategy, not wonder whether or not I can deal with Shafer's death", Jamie ranted, turning to the sea so she wouldn't have to look the DGSE agent in the eye.

"Look, once we're done here, we'll join Mitch and start browsing Reiden's finances again", Niamh assured her. "We'll find something against Shafer, don't worry."

"Ladies and gentleman, we are approaching the island and will be berthing in a few minutes, please remain on the ferry until full stop. Thank you", a voice said through the speakers.

Jamie waved her hand as a dismissal of Chloé's worries. Neither Chloé nor Niamh actually managed to get her to talk anymore, and when the ferry landed, they gathered to decide what to do next.

"I suggest we split up. One group meets with the Sheriff to get info on what's going on here, and the other stays with Jamie", Jackson said.

"Why ?" the reporter objected. "I don't need anybody to keep an eye on me, and I don't see why we couldn't stay together..."

"Because you might be on the FBI wanted list, and we don't want you near any police officer", Abraham replied patiently. "I'll stay with you."

"Yeah, me too", Niamh added. "Jackson, Chloé, you mind talking to the Sheriff ?"

"No problem", Chloé replied. "Let's do that."

They walked to the main street of the town, spotted a restaurant just in front of the police station, and dropped Abraham, Jamie and Niamh there, and Jackson and Chloé then tried to meet with the Sheriff. Sitting at a table, they ordered drinks and proceeded to wait. Fortunately, the Sheriff they were looking for exited the station only minutes later, and Jackson and Chloé loomed in on her. While Abe and Jamie sipped their drinks in silence, Jamie trying to get Mitch on the phone, Niamh was trying to spy on the others' conversation with the Sheriff.

Then suddenly her face reddened in embarrassment when she heard the policewoman mention the fact that she used to 'date' Jackson when they were kids, and drew attention on her as she hid behind her hands.

"What ?" Jamie wondered, finally letting go of her phone.

"I'm listening in on their conversation, and just heard one of the most cringe situation possible."

"What happened, do tell !" Jamie prompted her with curiosity.

"Wait, they keep talking... Apparently, the fisherman who saw the rats may have drunk too much and only saw like twelve rats rather than a hundred. However, Jackson told us rats get addicted to human blood, and the bodies on the boat were displaying bite marks, so... The Sheriff says that the coroner hasn't finished the autopsies yet, though he thinks the crew was killed by a... carbon monoxide leak..." Niamh continued without looking at anything, her gaze lost in space as she focused on her hearing to only listen to _their_ conversation, and not the dozen others around them.

"And Mitch who still ignores me..." the reporter complained. "Does any of you have had news ?"

"Nope."

"Me neither, but I haven't reached out to him yet. I have patience", Abe added, calm and composed.

Niamh sipped a bit of her coke and watched Jackson and Chloé ending their conversation with the Sheriff a moment later. She had stopped listening in, and so didn't know what they talked about or what lead they had and could now follow. They joined Niamh and the others, but didn't sit next to them.

"Apparently, rats were spotted near hotel Wilson, so that's our next stop. The city sent an exterminator, but he hasn't come back yet", Chloé explained to her team. "Finish your drinks and let's go."

XXXXXXXXXX

The hotel was located in the outskirts of town, and due to the renovations, there wasn't anyone in a large radius. Niamh pricked up her ears, looking for any suspicious noise. If the thousands rats that swam from the ship ended nesting here, she should be able to hear them, right ? No matter how hard she tried, though, she couldn't hear anything else than Abraham fidgeting with the door lock as he struggled to pick it. She tried to circle the building while Abe was trying to open the door, but there were fences all around it, and with her injured shoulder, she didn't want to risk tearing off her stiches once again, though she was thinking that they should be almost definitely closed now. She healed faster than humans, and it had been three days since the shooting. Even though she broke her stitches during the fight with the bears, she was confident enough that by the end of the day, she wouldn't bleed out anymore. Her shoulder still wouldn't be totally healed, it would be stiff and sore for a few days more, but she could remove the sling.

"Come on, you son of a..." Abe groaned at the lock.

"You used to be good at this", Jackson taunted his friend, when the tall black guy finally managed to unlock the door.

They all got in the hotel one behind the other, and looked around them with a mix of curiosity and slight anxiety. Niamh cast an eye in a nearby room, closed by a plastic curtain, and inhaled deeply to try and find any rat smell. She immediately sneezed, overwhelmed by the massive amount of dust, from paint as well as from usual dust.

"37 seconds, you're slowing down", Jackson remarked, still taunting.

"It's the salt air, makes the lock stick", the other responded casually as he looked around and began searching his bag.

Jamie tried to switch on the light, to no avail as it flickered and then died, to her dismay. She was obviously not fond of the rats they would have to face, and she wasn't very enthusiastic at the idea of them wandering alone in this semi abandoned hotel with a swarm of killer rodents. Chloé was scouting the area, searching for any threat with Jackson, and Niamh was simply trying her best not to sneeze again, while her eyes watered due her effort. Good news was they found the rats, their smell was _everywhere_ around them, as much as the smell of dust. Bad news was they found the rats. For Niamh to be able to smell them so strongly while in human form, they had to be more than a thousand. Way more. And they were only five of them to face them off.

"I'll have a look for a circuit panel", Abe said about their light problem. "See if I can get some light."

"Hey, the exterminator left some traps. Look", Chloé exclaimed, a few meters away from them, in the corridor.

"It hasn't been touched", Abraham remarked.

"Neither has this one", Jackson agreed, gesturing to another one.

"Those traps are no good to us because they are store-bought junk intended to kill the rats. Unlike like what we've bought, which should merely trap them, hopefully becoming a honeymoon suite for a male and female for Mitch to observe", the tall man explained slowly, as he scooped a spoonful of peanut butter from a jar he brought especially to use as bait, and applied on the floor of the trap he set.

Jamie was eyeing him do with a mixture of fear and disgust, and regretfully complained : "The fact that it's come to this, searching for killer rats in an abandoned hotel... I should have gone to college..."

"I thought you did go to college", Abraham objected.

"Should have gone to a better college."

"Not to be the devil's advocate, but I think Mitch did go to college too, Chloé and I as well, and still, we're all here", Niamh argued.

"I see where you're going. I just meant that if I did go to a better college, I may not have worked as a reporter and wouldn't have found out about the telepath lions, wouldn't have met Mitch, and wouldn't have had to come here..."

"You are a reporter, you have it in your guts, you would have found out, trust me. Especially since it involves Reiden", the girl assured her confidently. "We should get going, now... I have a bad feeling about this place, it puts me on edge."

"Yeah. Chloé and I will check the traps on the upper floors. You guys look down here", Jackson commanded.

Niamh instinctively bristled at the command in his voice, but reminded herself not to be difficult. She nodded and headed first towards the next corridors and room of the first floor. Abe put the trap down on the floor, and followed her, Jamie between them, in second position. As they walked across the corridor, Niamh noticed a few rats observing them from holes in the walls and from the top of shelves here and there. She growled at those that were the closest to them, sending them packing in fear.

"We should go downstairs, find the circuit panel", Abe suggested.

"I agree. Jamie, stay between us, just in case."

The reporter nodded and complied obediently, placing herself two steps behind the metamorph, and followed her as the girl carefully treaded along the walls. Every so often, they noticed a few rats observing them curiously. Tense and nervous, Niamh located the stairwell going down and led the way for her companions. She could see in the dark better than the others, but she didn't complain when they lit flashlights. It was actually more convenient than narrowing her eyes to try and see shit in that darkness.

They walked past a few empty traps, and a lot more with rats stuck dead in them. The smell of the rats was almost overwhelming, and only the smell of their dejections was stronger. Niamh frowned her nose and tried to get rid of that scent by breathing through her nose repeatedly.

"What's wrong, Niamh ?"

"I'm sure you can smell it too. These rats stink."

"I'll admit that this place will need a serious cleaning after the rats are exterminated", Jamie replied.

A few minutes later, Abraham stopped and drew their attention on the room they just walked by. The circuit panel was in there. They all gathered in, Abe opening the panel, Jamie lighting it so he could see what he was doing, and Niamh keeping watch at the door. She doubted they would have to face any danger for now, but you know. Better be safe than Abraham was trying to fix the light, Jamie was browsing her phone, slowly but surely diverting the light she provided with the device from the panel.

"I could fix it if I could see it, Jamie", Abe chided her.

"Sorry. I just still haven't heard from Mitch. It's killing me, to be this close to taking down Reiden", she explained herself.

"So what if we did ? What if Reiden was found guilty of everything you ever suspected them of doing ? What then ?" the tall man asked her as he fiddled with the cables, sighing in annoyance at the chewed things.

"What do you mean ?" Jamie replied with another question, but agreeing to keep her phone's flash in the right direction.

"He's worried about your future lack of purpose in life afterwards, I guess", Niamh whispered just loud enough for the others to hear her from the doorway.

"When I was a little boy, my cousin, Simon, and I were obsessed with finding a particularly endangered member of the antelope family, the hirola", he began, and then turned to cast a brief glance at the reporter. We travelled all around countryside just to catch a glimpse of one. Then, finally, in Somalia, we found a small herd of hirola. Yes, it was as beautiful as we had hoped, and many photos were taken. But when we travelled home, we realized there was an emptiness. We had spent so much energy on a single-minded pursuit, and it was over."

As he kept talking, Niamh allowed herself to look at Jamie for a second. She had that sad air a kid would have when told their favorite toy was damaged.

"What now ?" Abe ended his story, conveying the feelings of emptiness and anguish he had then.

"I appreciate what you're saying. But I assure you, there will be no emptiness when we bring down Reiden", Jamie retorted fiercely while the light suddenly worked again and Abe chuckled in victory. "There will be only joy", she added with grim determination.

They closed the circuit panel to prevent the rats from eating the cable again as much as they could, and backtracked to the ground level. Still in first position, Niamh was reviewing what had been told. And she thought the two purposes pursued by Abraham and Jamie were different in the end.

"I agree with Jamie, you know", she said loudly so Abe could hear her from the rear. "It's different. There is a difference between finding a rare species and putting an end to a dangerous company's business. When we'll stop Reiden, they won't be able to hurt anyone again, whereas when you found the antelope, no offense, but you didn't change the world. Finding that herd didn't save humanity, and taking photos didn't stop a massive animal uprising. While I understand what you mean by 'what now ?', I also think that there won't be any emptiness, there will be accomplishment."

She lowered her gaze to the ground, unseen by the others behind her.

"And my kind will come back to reason... Hopefully..." she whispered under her breath.

They were heading back to the ground level in silence, when Niamh abruptly stopped walking and tensed. There was a weird noise she could hear now... She started walking again, extremely cautiously and slowly, Jamie and Abraham in tow. She was wary of everything, taking time to check the rooms they were passing by on their way back upstairs and make sure they weren't in danger from the rats. They were almost back to the stairwell when she stopped once again. But this time, it wasn't because she thought she was hearing things. This time, she definitely heard something, and it was becoming painful. She winced and growled as she brought a hand to her ear, trying to protect her sense of hearing from the sound.

"Hey, are you okay ? Niamh ?" she heard Jamie wonder next to her.

"What's wrong ?" Abe added worrily.

"Don't you hear them ? The rats... They're making these horrible sounds, as if they were... I don't know, grinding their teeth ? Sharpening their claws ? I don't know but it's fucking loud and really painful..."

The noise kept hurting her ears a few more minutes, before lowering, and then stopping completely. She breathed out deeply, eyes closed in relief, and leaned against the wall with contentedness. She took another minute to enjoy the calm, before standing straight up, ready to go. The others were eyeing her with uncertainty, probably wondering if she really was fine or just pretending like she was used to do.

"It's over. We can go now."

When they made it to the first floor, they travelled back to where Abe left his traps. He walked past the two girls to reach for the small cage, and grabbed it with a smile.

"Looks like we have a winner", he remarked as he opened the gate of the cage to grab the rat.

Behind them, Niamh heard the rustling of steps that betrayed the arrival of Jackson and Chloé, so she didn't jump in surprise like Jamie, who was focused on watching Abraham put the rat in his game bag, when Jackson called for them.

"Hey ! It's worse than we thought", he said. "Oh, you got one."

"Yes. A male", Abe replied to his friend, holding the hissing and squeaking rat carefully.

"Okay, now we just need a female."

"At the risk of sounding overly girly, this is all really, really... really disgusting." Jamie frowned and made a face at the rat while Chloé just stared blankly at her with an air of 'you're weak' criticism.

Niamh decided to make a round to secure the place, and checked all the rooms around them while Jackson was dialing someone on his phone. She could only hear the other person reply "Sheriff Bowman", before having to clasp her hands on her ears again. The rats were bruxing again, and this time, they were a lot closer than they were in the basement. She could hear them from everywhere : the floor, the walls, the ceiling. They were everywhere.

She started to whine and pant, tears beginning to well up in her eyes with the pain. She couldn't even fight it properly, it wasn't as if she could punch the noise to make it stop. And there were too many rats to punch them all into silence.

"What's going on with her ?" Chloé asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

"The rats. She hears them louder than us", Jamie explained quickly as she searched her pockets for earplugs that she kept from the plane flight.

She eventually found them and handed them to the distressed metamorph who gladly accepted them and pushed them deep in her ears with relief. She mouthed a thanks to the reporter and closed her eyes. She had enough of these rats. She only wanted to go home, get off this damned island and call Richard. While she was having her hearing crisis, Jackson was still talking to the Sheriff.

"You have to evacuate all the nearby homes", he said, before a pause while the woman must have answered, but Niamh couldn't hear her anymore between the earplugs and her unwillingness to hear the rats as well as the woman's answer. "No, no, don't, don't come here. Please, you have to keep people away from here. Becky ! Damn it, she hung up. Come on, the sooner we find a female rat, the sooner we get out of here", he commanded.

"Niamh, are you gonna make it ? You could wait outside, it won't take long", Chloé suggested, clearly hoping to protect her.

"Hell no. These rats killed humans, I'm not gonna leave you here alone."

"Well, technically, we wouldn't be _alone_ , and since you're wounded, you'd be safer outside", Jamie insisted.

"I am _not_ leaving you. I am the blood of an Alpha, I will not let myself be bossed around lightly", Niamh replied, stubborn, and headed first in the next corridor.

They only walked a matter of minutes before the lights suddenly shutted down. Outside of the hotel, the sun must have started to go down, because the light coming from the windows was low.

"My patch work must not have held", Abe casually said as they all took flashlights from their bags.

A second later, though, the lights flickered on again, and they put the torches back in their bags, slightly confused.

"Perhaps it worked better than I thought", Abe added to his previous statement.

Niamh and Chloé were walking front, then Jackson and Abraham, and finally Jamie was walking behind them. They trailed carefully through the hallway, checking the rooms and the traps set by both the exterminator and Abe in hope to find a female rat.

"Wait guys, I hear something..." Niamh said, breaking the silence.

They froze on their tracks, and tried to hear it to, to not avail. Focusing on the sound, Niamh took off the earplugs and realized that what she was hearing faintly was actually a lot louder now. Not enough to cause her pain like before, but enough to worry her. There were rats squeaking noises. She paled as it dawned on her that there must be a lot of rats nearby if she heard them that strongly. And then the elevator rang, drawing all of their attention to it.

"Hey guys, the elevator's here", Jamie distractedly remarked as they all looked at it in curiosity.

"Must be Becky", Jackson assumed.

Her throat knotted, Niamh managed nonetheless to swallow and warn them.

"No it's not... Run", she whispered, unable to speak louder because of the damn knot that was already back.

The elevator's doors opened, releasing hundreds of rats that swarmed the corridor in a matter of seconds. Without even having time to understand how the hell they managed to work the elevator with their tiny paws and their stupid brain, the group scattered and tried to run away. Only Niamh wasn't able to move, petrified by her fight or flight response. A part of her wanted to get the hell out of here, and the other part was ready to bare her fangs and start mauling these vermins. She rounded her back and growled angrily, her eyes turning gold as adrenaline washed over her. She didn't even care anymore of her injured arm, she only wanted to salughter these rodents.

The swarm of rats noticed her and immediately tried to get to her, almost ignoring Jackson, Abe and Jamie running away from them. She could see the rats' sharp incisors as they bared them at her and were about to bite her, when she felt herself being pulled aside. Chloé violently slammed the door after she had dragged her inside the room in which she already was, and breathed loudly, obviously scared of the rats. On the other side of the door, the angry rodents tried to chew the wood panel to make a passage, and so Chloé kept dragging Niamh behind her until they found another room to hide in until the rats stopped looking for them.

When she finally allowed herself to breathe freely, she realized they weren't out of the woods yet. Niamh was still running high on adrenaline, and her eyes were still the color of molten gold, and though she was doing her best to control her heartrate, she was clearly losing the fight right now. The only time Chloé saw her shapeshift was in the woods in Mississipi, when they were looking for Mitch and Abraham, and only for a brief moment. She never had to deal with her when in animal form, and from what Jackson and Abraham told them, it was not easy to deal with the terror you feel when a giant beast looked at you as if you were its next meal. So she'd rather not have Niamh turn at all. And so she had to help her control herself right now.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. The rats are gone, we're safe", she tried to say calmly, and failing to keep her voice from shaking.

The young girl raised her gaze to look at her in the eye, aware that the DGSE agent was totally freaking out. She also knew that she couldn't transform and risk to harm herself even more because of her arm. She focused on her breathing, eyes closed, and tried to count backwards from 100.

"My sister used to have panic attacks when we were younger", Chloé then started to tell her, sounding like she had just found a good way to help her (and she might actually have). "We had her describe something she could see in the most accurate way possible, to distract her brain from panic. You can also try to breathe in for four seconds, hold for one and breathe out for four seconds again. It's going to be okay, Niamh. Breathe in with me. In... Block. And out..." the blonde woman commanded her as she lightly set hands on the young metamorph's shoulders in a comforting way.

Niamh blindly trusted Chloé and completely gave in to the strategy she suggested, and kept her eyes fixed in the other's. Slowly, she managed to regain control over her breathing, and her muscles relaxed as her eyes turned back to ice blue. It took her about ten minutes to totally relax and reverse the transformation process, but then, she was sure she wouldn't accidentally turn.

"Thank you..." she muttered in a croaky voice. "I never know how to deal with these. And before I was infected, I had no trouble finding a safe place to turn, cool down, and then shift back to human again. Now, I can't risk it anymore."

"It's okay, don't worry. How are you feeling ? Can you walk ?" Chloé inquired, still concerned.

Niamh let out a bark of sharp laughter.

"Yeah, of course. It's my arm that's injured, not my leg. And now that I won't turn into the Beast, I've got no problem going with you. Thanks again", the girl repeated, insistent on making sure Chloé knew how much she helped her.

She tried to smile at the woman, but she was more used to sarcastic smirks and predatory grins, so when she tried to smile a warm and kind smile, it felt kind of weird.

"We should try and find the others. Apparently, the rats were mostly after us, but a good number of them still went after the three others."

Chloé nodded and both of them carefully exited the room they locked themselves in while trying to escape the rats. There were no rodents outside anymore, and they could start to explore again without having to run. They were wary of any suspicious noise, of course, but it seemed like there weren't any rats nearby for now.

"You called your wolf form 'the Beast', earlier", Chloé whispered, feeling that she shouldn't make any noise. "Why ?"

"Well, it _is_ a Beast", Niamh snickered, not looking at the other woman.

"Isn't it a bit self-deprecating ?" Chloé remarked, her analyst brain immediately pointing out what was wrong to her.

Niamh tightened her jaws and looked away, though she wasn't even looking at the DGSE agent, who was walking behind her.

"I guess it is... But you know... _Appellons un chat, un chat_ (let's call a spade a spade (A.N : literally 'let's call a cat a cat'), as it is a Beast, I don't know how I could call it else than that."

"I don't know either... But it just feels wrong. It's a part of you, and calling it a 'Beast' is like hating that part of yourself. A beast has no mind, no heart, just instinct and violence. You aren't a beast. And that other part of you isn't either."

Niamh swallowed hard, realizing noone ever told her that about herself. _She_ always thought, deep down in her heart, not even admitting it totally to herself, that the Beast was that angry wolf-bear hybrid that caused her mother's death. She liked the freedom the Beast gave her, she loved the power she had when in animal form. But she never really acknowledged the Beast as a part of her that she could fully respect. It was kind of that dark side everyone hid in their heart, but a dark side she had access to. It was violent, full of fury, and quick to anger. So 'the Beast' it was.

"Are you alright ?" Chloé asked her after she'd been silent for a long time.

"Hmm", she mumbled with a quick nod, avoiding her eyes.

This was her pack. The pack she never really had. How could she come to bond so fast to them ? Was it some kind of psychologic bullshit such as 'she was starved of affection and needed it now' ? Her parents loved her, she had never lacked anything, she had been protected, cared for. She wasn't starved of affection, was she ? So why did Chloé's words hit so close to home ? Why did they stir something deep in her heart ?

"So..." she tried, had to clear her throat, and then continued. "So how would you like to call it ?"

"I don't know. _She_ is _your_ alter ego, not mine." Chloé shrugged while following the younger girl. "But I was thinking about 'Niamh'. You are the two sides of the same coin, after all."

Once again, Niamh tightened her jaws, trying to suppress the emotion biting at her heart. She casually tried to dismiss the emotion as she kept walking, completely refusing to look at the DGSE agent.

"Wait, I hear something", the girl said after a while.

She stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes to focus on her hearing sense. Behind her, Chloé remained perfectly silent and waited for more info.

"Is it the rats ? Did they find us ?" she eventually wondered in a whisper.

"No... I think it's the Sheriff. I'm not sure I recognized her voice right, but it definitely was a woman. She's calling for Jackson."

"We should try and find her. It's not safe to be alone", Chloé decided.

"Indeed. Glad we didn't get separated back then. And thanks for dragging me along, I couldn't react in time."

"Forget about it, it was nothing." The blonde woman waved her hand and shook her head in a 'no problem' kind of gesture. "Where did you hear her ?"

"She just got in the hotel. She still must be on the first floor. Well... _au rez-de-chaussée_ (on the ground level)."

Chloé smiled in amusement. In French, what americans called first floor was called floor 0. She wasn't quite sure why they were still speaking English at this point, being alone together and of French birth, but maybe they both got used to speaking another language and didn't think about switching back.

Niamh ruffled her hair and sighed. She only wanted to leave this island, but they still had to deal with the rats, and now there was someone else in danger. As if she wasn't already worried for her group, she now had a police officer to watch out for. Not that she really cared about her personally, but she mattered for Jackson, and in addition, they didn't actually want to be responsible for another death. She pushed open a door to the stairwell and cautiously began to walk down the steps. Every sense in alert, she was so tense that she might actually just punch someone by accident if startled. The light was still decreasing outside, and though the power was still working, some lightbulbs had died and there were some dark spots here and there in the corridors and in the stairwell.

When arrived at the first floor, the rats started bruxing again, causing Niamh to wince in pain and frantically search her pockets for the earplugs Jamie gave her. When she put them in her ears, she felt better, but the mere thought of the rats sharpening their teeth made her uncomfortable. And now she couldn't even track the Sheriff by the noise she made. She couldn't smell her either, because of the overwhelming rat reek. Chloé was now walking side by side with her younger colleague, and was the first to notice the plastic curtain flapping as if someone had pushed it aside to walk in the room. She was also the first to enter the room, and stopped abruptly.

"Chloé", Niamh could hear another voice say with relief as she too walked into the room a second later. "So much for the coroner's theory that rats don't eat people", she added, gesturing towards the dead body of the exterminator, covered in little bites.

"Yes, and we need to find something better than rats traps", Chloé added, still shivering retrospectively about the swarm of rats that attacked them.

"Yeah... Uh, who is this ?" the Sheriff asked, with a hand gesture at Niamh.

"Niamh, this is Sheriff Bowman. Sheriff, this is Niamh. She... She's our intern", Chloé introduced the younger girl to the police officer.

"Colleague", Niamh corrected softly. "Nice to meet you. Now can we go and find the others ? They are alone somewhere in this infested hotel, and I don't like it. I'm supposed to protect you, how am I supposed to do that if we're separated ? Not even mentioning my arm..." she mumbled grumpily.

She didn't approach to salute the woman more formally. As the bruxing was still heard around them and her wariness only grew, she could feel her eyes tingle again, and knew it meant they were turning gold. She controlled her transformation, she wasn't on a huge adrenaline rush, but she wanted to be ready to anything, and so the process had somehow started. So her eyes were of an unusual color, she didn't want the Sheriff to notice, and though she wasn't about to transform, she couldn't relax and fought the Beast to keep it under control. She thought about Chloé telling her to stop calling the Beast like that, and forced herself to think her thought again : 'she fought against herself to remain in control of her anger'. Better. Ish... She still had some anger issues, but at least, she acknowledged them as hers, and not her inner wolf's.

"I'll take this. It could come in handy, and it's better than traps or guns", Chloé said, unaware of Niamh's inner dialogue.

She carefully and respectfully pried the flamethrower off the back of the exterminator, and put it on her own back like a backpack. She checked that it was still functional and that she knew how to make it work, accidentally almost burning down the hotel, and then declared they were ready to go. Niamh and Becky Bowman nodded, and this time the young metamorph let her elder go first. She didn't like it, but at the time, Chloé was deadlier than she was.

"So, I didn't see you earlier, when Jackson and Chloé went to talk to me about the hotel", the Sheriff tried to start a conversation with Niamh.

"Yeah, I was with the others at the nearby bar."

Niamh wasn't really eager to talk. She was mainly focused on keeping her adrenaline in check, and tried to listen for anything despite the earplugs and the rats still bruxing. She also tried not to look at the Sheriff directly so she wouldn't notice her golden eyes.

"What happened to your arm ?" the woman inquired as a good detective.

Chloé almost froze, in front of them, and barely managed to keep walking without pausing, though she glanced at Niamh in concern. What would she tell the officer that wouldn't endanger them ?

"Nothing important. Just slipped in the bathtub and sprained my shoulder. I'll be fully healed soon", the girl lied swiftly.

They kept walking, until Chloé had to open a door, and they were suddenly in danger. A swarm of rats was awaiting them on the other side, and immediately flooded the corridor. Niamh growled ferociously and grabbed the Sheriff's arm with one hand, forcibly removing her from harm's way. The brunette was pushed aside brutally and could only fall on her behind while Niamh placed herself between her and the rats and Chloé just fired her flamethrower at the swarm. The vermins burnt in seconds, a foul stench rapidly emitting from their charred carcasses. Niamh gagged, but didn't throw up, and stayed between the now dead creatures and the Sheriff, to be sure she was safe.

"I think they're all dead", Chloé eventually uttered as she lowered the flamethrower. "Are you two alright ?"

"Yeah... You're really strong", the Sheriff remarked in a suspicious tone, accepting Niamh's hand to help her up.

The girl froze as she pulled the brunette up, and realized that, caught up in the action as she was, she forgot that she wasn't supposed to look at her in the eye.

"Wow, that' a very unique eye color", the woman added, frowning.

"Yeah, it runs in the family", Niamh dismissed the comment with calm confidence. "And I'm scared, it's adrenaline, not real strength."

"You don't strike me as a fearful person, though."

"We literally are surrounded by thousands of man-eating rodents", Niamh deadpanned, staring blankly at the brunette.

"Maybe you could ask these questions later, Sheriff", Chloé stepped in the conversation. "We are still missing three friends, and there are murdering rats in the walls."

The brunette nodded sheepishly while Niamh cast a thankful glance at the other blonde. They resumed to their silent walk, and slowly headed to the basement. After a moment of reflexion, they agreed that it was the most likely place for the rats to hide and their friends to be, since they explored almost everything else. Extremely wary and alert, Niamh picked up the scent of Jamie's perfume on their way to the basement, and discreetly confirmed to Chloé that they were on the right way. They carefully stepped down the stairs, and overheard squeaking and hissing and bruxing from ahead. Niamh winced and clasped her hands on her ears in addition of the earplugs, and Chloé called out for the others.

"Guys ?"

"Chloé, stay out of here !" Jackson shouted from behind the door they were facing.

Without any reflexion, Chloé kicked the door open, the flamethrower ready to fire in her hands, and saw the swarm of rats threatening to attack Jackson, Abe and Jamie. She calmly pointed the weapon at them and began to burn them all alsmot casually. Meanwhile, Niamh and the Sheriff stayed cautiously behind her, waiting for the area to be cleared of rats.

"Queens ! Get the queens !" the zoologist yelled.

Chloé nodded and walked up determinedly further inside the room, burning every rat brave or stupid enough to try to attack her, as well as the swarm of rodents piled up in the back of the room. Niamh pushed past the Sheriff to get to the others and caught a glance of the queen rats Jackson talked about. She froze and made a disgusted grimace.

 _Ew, ew, ew. Am outta here._ She shivered mentally as she grabbed the arms of Jamie and Jackson and dragged them with her outside of the basement. She made sure that Abraham also followed her, and made it outside in one piece. The Sheriff had followed her as well while Chloé was dealing with the remaining animals. They exited the basement and were able to breathe freely again. Chloé eventually joined them and got rid of the flamethrower.

"Are they all dead ?" Jamie worried.

"Pretty sure they are, yeah", Chloé rassured them, slightly out of breath because of the smoke and the smell of the dead rodents.

"I'm calling my colleagues and the firefighters", the Sheriff said in a toneless voice, face pale and inexpressive.

"We should go", Jamie stated with a shiver. "I don't want to be there when the police starts searching the place. They could ask unrequired questions."

"I agree. The Sheriff is already suspicious of me, I don't want to give her more reasons to be even more inquisitive", Niamh added, starting to feel the adrenaline dissolve in her bloodstream, and her eyes turn blue again.

"You two hide, I want to talk to her before we go and I doubt she will pay attention to me until the reinforcements are here", Jackson objected.

Niamh and Jamie both sighed but had no other choice but to comply. So they they simply waited until the police and firefighters arrived. It was a small town, so they were here in less than ten minutes, and while they stayed away from the police, the Sheriff talked to the firefighters about what they had to do in the basement and in some various other floors.

Even if she knew she shouldn't do that, Niamh was curious and wanted to erase the concerned frown on Jamie's face. It was hazardous, because she didn't know if she would worry her more or not, but she had to try anyway.

"Still no news from Mitch ?"

"No..." the reporter replied sadly after a quick glance at her phone. "I hope he's fine."

"He probably just forgot to charge his phone", Niamh snorted spitefully.

"That sounds like him, yes. I can't wait to get off this island..."

"Same."

Niamh stalked to the door and glanced at Jackson, approached by the Sheriff.

"I called an off-island exterminator, just to be safe", the woman said to her childhood friend, unaware of Niamh spying on their conversation.

"That's a good idea."

"There's something more to it, isn't there ? Whatever it is you're looking into ? And this girl, I could swear she had golden eyes earlier, and now they're ice blue..."

Jackson tensed slightly while Niamh backed inside the building quickly. They _needed_ to go. Now. She gathered their stuff, Abraham made sure his game bag was sealed and didn't let any of the baby rats out, and Chloé prepared herself to go as well. She eventually left the building first, quickly followed by a sulky Jamie.

"Ill breathe a lot easier when we're off this island", the reporter huffed grumpily as she walked past Jackson and Chloé.

They got to their rental car and drove to the docks where they only could watch the last ferry sail away from the island. They shared an annoyed sigh and booked two rooms in the only hotel of the island for the night. They crashed on their beds and fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted from their day.

* * *

 **A.N :** **To 'Guest', who told me that NHS was simply called 'paramedics' (chapter 1), I say thank you. When I think back about it now, it seems indeed a better option than the acronym. I actually knew the term but was still thinking I was translating the french part, and not writing in english and thus using the appropriate technical terms (and in French we use the acronym SAMU for the paramedics, so...) ^^' I will correct it when I finish the season 1 and edit the whole story instead of correcting every mistake I made everytime someone points it to me :)**


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